


Close for Comfort

by whenyoudesertme (phrenk)



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cohabitation, Community: ninoexchange, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenk/pseuds/whenyoudesertme
Summary: In which Nino does a lot of leaving but Ohno and Sho are there when he’s ready.





	Close for Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Written for rainbow_teatime for the 2017 ninoexchange, and originally posted [here](http://ninoexchange.dreamwidth.org/86260.html). Many thanks to kinoface for the beta and all the encouragement. <3

Nino didn’t exactly regret quitting his job as a strategic project manager at a big tech company to be a songwriter full time, but moments like this one did give him a twinge.

He was sitting across from two strangers, in the kitchen of their house, smiling gamely and trying to look like he had a reliable income. If, at the end of the interview, they didn’t offer their spare room to him, he’d have to start thinking about moving away to a cheaper place than Tokyo.

He didn’t want to move away, not from his music connections and not from the few friends he’d troubled to keep, but his money situation was getting dire, and there was only so long he could crash on Aiba’s couch. He couldn’t settle down there enough to write music, and he needed to write music so that he could continue to eat, not to mention pay the rent.

He had to get a place to pay rent on first, but he was feeling confident about this interview. Nino was good at getting people to like him when he had to. Given how much he needed to get this room, he was highly motivated, but given how friendly the two people talking it over with him were, he felt like he didn’t need to lay it on too thick.

The one on the left did most of the talking. He’d introduced himself as Sakurai Sho, and after Nino had established himself as unlikely to be a serial killer, he’d been nothing but affability.

The one on the right, Ohno Satoshi, hardly spoke the whole time. He managed to be just as charming, though, and smiled sheepishly whenever his roommate called his attention back to the present. It seemed like Sho was used to Ohno zoning out.

Nino liked them already, a bonus that was ultimately irrelevant. Sho’s engaging smile, Ohno’s endearing slouch, those weren’t what he was aiming for today. All he needed was them to rent their room to him so he could settle into his new life. For that, the renting situation with Ohno and Sho was almost suspiciously ideal. It was inexpensive, conveniently located, and available immediately. To put the cherry on top, Nino would have his own entrance and his own toilet, though the bath was shared.

He’d been trying to find a place he could afford for a month, and if they let him, he’d move in tomorrow. He needed the space to work, since he no longer had an office, and he needed the cheap rent, since his freelance work had become steady but not yet exactly lucrative. Most of all, he needed to stop worrying his best friend, because a worried Aiba was a nagging Aiba, as well as an Aiba who was full of ideas to help. So far he’d brought Nino proposals ranging from buying a houseboat to contracting as a live-in zoo caretaker.

He’d also found the online rental listing that had resulted in this interview with Sho and Ohno, because Aiba could be practical, too, not to mention lucky.

As Sho started on the last question, Nino turned his smile up a click and vowed to himself that if he got this room, he’d take Aiba out to dinner. He’d even pay, if he happened to have the money and Aiba didn’t do it first from sheer habit.

Nino was polishing his answer in his head as Sho finished, but as he opened his mouth to speak his eyes caught a movement in his peripheral vision. He looked down casually and saw that Ohno was playing with a piece of string, his hands moving idly as he wrapped the string around one finger and then the next. Something about his clever hands made Nino falter for a moment, but he succeeded at pulling his eyes away so he could answer smoothly.

Sho asked if he had any questions of his own, and Nino grinned and asked the ones he’d prepared as they’d talked. His eyes dropped to Ohno’s hands again, hopefully unobtrusively. As he mentioned wanting to hear how long Sho and Ohno had known each other, Sho placed one calming hand over both of Ohno’s and tsked quietly, drawing Nino’s attention despite himself to Sho’s rather pretty mouth.

Ohno looked up, startled, and Nino let his question trail off. He watched as Sho looked at Ohno, and Ohno blinked at Sho, and then they untangled their hands and turned back to Nino. Sho had managed to confiscate the string. Nino swore he could see the sulkiness under Ohno’s blank expression, the touch of smugness in Sho’s eyes.

He told himself sternly that all he needed was the room. He didn’t have time to tease out the undertones of the friendship before him, and anyway it wasn’t important, because he’d spend most of the time in his own space, by choice.

He could live with them as friendly strangers, if only they’d offer. But despite how much they seemed to like him, Nino left the table only with a promise that they’d call. He walked from the kitchen to the living room, back to the entryway, and tried not to let his disappointment show in case they followed. As he bent for his shoes he remembered that Aiba had set this up for him, and the contact number they had for him was Aiba’s.

He put his smile back on and walked again to the kitchen. Before he got there, he heard Ohno’s voice for the first time since he’d introduced himself. He was soft-spoken, but the words were clear, and Nino froze before he came into sight again.

“I don’t like him.”

Sho’s answering laugh was audible. Nino backed away slowly, trying not to breathe, and flashed through every expression Ohno had shown him throughout the interview. Pleased, bored, amused, intrigued, sleepy… they’d all seemed positive toward Nino, no matter how he tried to twist them. He couldn’t see why Ohno would say that, or why Sho would laugh.

But Ohno hadn’t liked him, and Nino wouldn’t get the room, and he’d have to take Aiba’s second-best suggestion and live in a cottage that smelled of hyenas and go to sleep worrying about the emotional well-being of giraffes. Animal metaphors would end up in all his songs.

As Nino put on his shoes and left, he told himself he didn’t want to live with anyone who didn’t like him at his most likeable anyway. What a waste of effort.

It was only as he was driving back to Aiba’s cramped apartment that he admitted to himself that it wasn’t just the loss of the room that stung.

Despite those hurt feelings, when he got the text from Sho that night, Nino didn’t have the luxury even to pretend to hesitate.

_When can you move in? :)_

_Tomorrow._

*

Nino wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, at least not on his own behalf. He certainly wasn’t going to hold a grudge with people he knew less well than the barista who’d made his coffee every morning, back when he had a regular schedule and the money to buy overpriced coffee. It wasn’t hard to show up to his new house the next day with his scant possessions and a friendly expression.

He was going to start things off the way he meant them to continue: considerate, amiable, and separate. He knew he’d have to use the common areas for bathing and what little cooking he did, but otherwise he was determined to set up camp in his own room and keep his minimal social interaction for out of the house, with others. (Mostly Aiba.)

He rang the doorbell and turned to wave at said Aiba, who’d wanted to come in but had to get back back to Nino’s former company, where he worked as one of their leading creative developers. As the door opened, Nino forgot all about his reserved intentions at the sight of Ohno, the quiet one, looking rumpled and incongruous in sturdy blue coveralls. He looked like he might be able to fix Nino’s car, if Nino still had one. The press of Ohno’s lips together was almost a pout.

“Sho-kun said I had to help you move,” he said, peering around Nino suspiciously. “He said there might be a van and lots of stuff and we had to be hospitable.”

Nino huffed a laugh. “Is that why you’re dressed like you’re going to mow my yard?”

Ohno frowned at him, but something told Nino he wasn’t actually offended. “We don’t have a yard.”

“And if you did?” Nino prompted.

“I wouldn’t wear this,” Ohno finished, deadpan. “Where’s your van?”

Abruptly, and despite how it seemed just then, Nino remembered that Ohno didn’t like him. He might not be holding a grudge, but he wasn’t one to discard information when it made a difference in a situation.

He gestured behind himself at the conspicuous lack of van. Then he pointed at his stuff: two bags, three small boxes, a guitar case, and a baseball bat.

Ohno took this in. He flicked a hand at the bat and said, “Does that count as a weapon? Sho-kun told me I should keep an eye out for warning signs.”

“I promise only to use it for the protection of our household,” Nino said gravely, and Ohno nodded like that settled the matter. “Where is this fabled Sho-kun, anyway?”

Ohno turned back into the house, forgetting that he was supposed to be helping. Nino grabbed both bags and the box full of his video games and followed.

“He’s at work, as usual.”

“Oh right,” Nino remembered. “He said he works a lot?”

“Way too much,” Ohno said. He turned to make a face at Nino to express his feelings about this, but the scowl turned to a comical look of chagrin when he saw Nino loaded down with stuff when his own arms were empty.

“And you’re even dressed like a mover,” Nino sighed. “You might as well just take that off.”

Ohno stared at him for a second, mouth going soft with his surprise, but then he assumed a different expression. “Would that help?” he said earnestly, and Nino couldn’t help but laugh.

When they’d gotten all of Nino’s stuff into his new room, which looked bare and spacious with a queen-sized bed and a dresser and his little pile of belongings, Ohno said belatedly, “Welcome to the house. I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are?” Nino asked despite himself, then made himself smile cheekily. “Would you have been glad even _with_ the van?”

“I don’t know,” Ohno said slowly. He stood there with a conflicted expression like he really had to think about it.

Nino lasted almost a minute just looking at his new roommate being weird, but then he had to break the silence. “Well… it worked out. And your jaunty jumpsuit certainly made me feel welcome.”

Ohno looked left and right like someone might be observing them, then leaned in close to whisper to Nino. “I was wearing it already, for painting. Don’t tell Nino.”

Nino sucked in a breath, startled by the sudden proximity and casual address. Had he mentioned people called him Nino? And was he delusional, or did Ohno smell _really good_?

He tried to move, tried to make a joke, but ended up just standing there trying not to be the one who made it awkward.

Ohno didn’t seem to mind. He backed up a step and smiled a sleepy smile. “Sho-kun said your friend Aiba-san said to call you Nino. Is it okay?”

“Of course,” Nino said automatically, distracted by the warmth in Ohno’s eyes. “Thanks for helping me with the van.”

Ohno gave a little wave with his fingers and left, presumably to go back to his painting. Nino had forgotten Sho had mentioned Ohno was an artist, but now it seemed very important. It could be that they’d both be working from home and Nino wouldn’t be quite as solitary as he’d envisioned.

He told himself he wasn’t excited at the prospect, but already it felt like he was teetering on the brink of trouble.

*

It didn’t take Nino long to get enough unpacked that he felt like he might actually sleep there that night. He focused on his work stuff: his laptop, his guitar, his music notebooks, his fancy headphones.

Now that he finally had a place to live, there was no time to waste. He had two songs due fairly soon and hadn’t had the time or space or mental energy to start either of them.

He spread his stuff out on his new bed, feeling thankful it already had bedding and making a mental note to say something nice about that to Sho later, and got to work.

Time slid by as he discovered that at least one of the songs he’d gotten the specifics for weeks ago had been percolating in the back of his head without him realizing, which was excellent news. He had a rough mockup of the chorus and half of one of the verses done by the time there was a knock at the door.

The light in the room had changed, and a glance at his computer screen showed it was past seven.

“Coming,” he called, stretching carefully to work out the kinks from sitting in one place for so long. There was no one at his door, so he headed to the kitchen and found Sho and Ohno, this time sitting across from each other. From the smell of the air, Ohno at least had gotten Thai takeout not too long ago, but Sho was still dressed in a plain, well-fitting black suit, and he looked exhausted.

Still, he looked up when Nino came in and gave him what appeared to be a genuine smile.

“Welcome to the house, Ninomiya-san. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier to help move you in.”

Nino came in and sat carefully down at the table next to Ohno, trying not to feel like an intruder. “Thank you for making the bed, Sakurai-san. I had to get rid of a lot of stuff when I moved out of my old place and I hadn’t thought about sheets...”

Sho’s eyes twinkled. “That was Ohno-kun’s idea, actually. He’s very particular about bedding, so there have been a couple of rejected configurations. Now you’ve got one of them.”

“It’s a good one,” Ohno said, turning to meet Nino’s eyes with an intent expression. “The sheets are soft, and the covers stay put, but the color felt wrong with the walls, and there weren’t enough pillowcases…”

“What if I’d brought a whole heap of pillows?” Nino asked innocently.

“In your van?” Ohno wondered, and Sho laughed.

The sound made Nino want to squirm in his seat, given that the last time he’d heard it, they’d been laughing at him. Or so it had felt at the time, but given their behavior now it was hard to believe. He really should’ve eavesdropped more, or less, so that he’d either know what they’d been talking about or not have heard anything in the first place.

“Was there something you wanted?” he asked politely, turning back to Sho.

Sho’s smile faded slightly. “I thought we could have a house meeting, since it’s the first night. Plus, it’ll be our last chance for a while--Ohno-kun’s heading out for two weeks starting tomorrow.”

“Painting world tour?” Nino asked, then bit his lip. He wished he could remember to speak with more reserve, but something about Ohno and Sho made him forget himself.

Ohno chuckled. “Sure.”

Sho rolled his eyes. “Fishing, really. Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy settling in, but we do have a few things to talk about before Ohno-kun becomes one with the sea. First off, you’re welcome to use our TV and everything in the kitchen, though neither of us does much cooking. I usually take a bath before bed--”

“--and me before dinner,” Ohno said, fiddling with his fingers again. Nino remembered the string (had it been red? brown?) and how it had seemed to do exactly what Ohno wanted. He’d probably be better at card magic than Nino had been if Nino taught him how, with those dexterous hands.

“Ninomiya-san?” Sho said, sounding courteous but also like he’d said it once already.

Nino pulled his gaze up and smiled at Sho. “I can take my bath in the morning. And I’ll have a TV of my own again soon, so I won’t get in your way. I play a lot of video games and I don’t want to monopolize your living room.”

“You wouldn’t be in the way,” Sho said, and Ohno nodded beside Nino. “But of course you should do as you like. The only other thing, unless you have anything you’d like to bring up?”

Nino shook his head.

Sho paused a moment, then smiled again, looking almost nervous this time. “We’re used to living the two of us, you see, and we wondered if maybe… could you restrict your use of the common areas to before 10pm?”

Nino was a little surprised, but not unwilling. They were being so accommodating that it didn’t seem like a big deal at all, if he thought about it. Before he could agree, though, Sho rushed on.

“I know it’s an imposition, and you are paying rent fair and square and should be able to use them whenever you please, so if you feel like we’re being unfair, or if you would like to push it back later, or have a time when you can use the kitchen without us or--”

“Sho-kun,” Ohno said firmly, and Sho stopped talking. After a few seconds, though, it became clear that Ohno didn’t have anything else to say, so Nino said what he would’ve said already if Sho hadn’t started babbling.

“I don’t mind staying in my room after ten,” he said honestly. “If I need to leave or come back I’ll be using my door anyway, and I’ll probably have snacks in my room… uh, is it okay if I eat snacks in my room?”

“Of course, Ninomiya-san,” Sho said emphatically, clearly trying to make up for what he felt was an unfair rule, and Ohno snorted a laugh.

Nino grinned. “And didn’t Aiba-shi tell you to call me Nino? If you really want me to feel welcome and all.”

“Mmhmm, and I already did,” Ohno said, and Nino watched with enjoyment as Sho swallowed down his well-bred manners.

“Welcome, Nino,” he said at last, and the way he smiled made it seem like he really meant it.

After a few more pleasantries, Nino made his escape, glad it would be a while before they had any further house meetings.

He had to give work all his energy for a while to be sure of establishing himself as more than an occasional freelance songwriter, after all. He’d ended up in this house because it seemed like the best way to make his new career choice workable without having to leave the city, but he didn’t think he could take any more upheaval or uncertainty.

He’d left his job, moved out of his apartment, sold his car, and upended his life. That was more than enough excitement for the next five to ten years, so his overly charming roommates would just have to charm someone else.

*

For the two weeks Ohno was gone, Nino channeled all his energy into his work. The deadlines for his songs were fast approaching, and he’d hit a rough spot on the first one after the promising beginning. He hadn’t even started the second.

He forced his way through with the desperation of the otherwise unemployed, because he wasn’t willing to fail this soon. He’d never had any trouble getting his songs done on time before. If he could do it with a full-time job, and one with a lot of responsibilities at that, he could do it when he had nothing to do but write songs and play video games.

His mom had been to visit from Niigata within a few days of his moving in. She’d brought his old TV from all the way back when they’d lived in Chiba, laughed at him when he became misty-eyed at the sight of it, and went with him to the grocery store to make sure he bought actual food.

When he’d tried to get her to put the non-perishable food in his room instead of the kitchen cabinets, she’d given him a look so stern he hadn’t been able to stop laughing for ages. The food ended up in the kitchen, where he might have ended up putting it anyway, or maybe not.

Now it was just Nino, his songs, and his absent roommates.

He wondered if Ohno had caught any fish. More than that, he wondered if Sho ever _relaxed._ Sho was gone before Nino woke up in the morning, and it was always dark by the time he got home. He seemed to work right through the weekends. He and Nino crossed paths a few times in the kitchen, but more often than not Nino was in his room for the night before Sho returned. Now Nino could understand that frustrated look on Ohno’s face, because he wanted to sit Sho down and ask him if he was getting enough sleep, and he didn’t even know the guy.

Most of the time, though, he wasn’t thinking about Sho, or Ohno, or his new living situation in general. He was immersed in his songs, pushing himself to the limit of his creativity in order to prove to himself--and to the people who paid him--that he could make this work as a full-time job.

Also, he played video games, but that went without saying. He might have deadlines, but he also had basic needs, even if Sho didn’t seem to. Gaming was one of them.

He finished the first song and started on the second. He was so sick of fighting the first song that he yanked a rough draft for the second one out of his head on the spot.

It turned out awful, completely unworkable, and he hunkered down to push his way through writing another song, a _good_ song, note by note, word by word, until it was perfect.

He had both songs done by the deadline. He’d be able to pay the next month’s rent with his advance pay, be able to keep food on the table (or TV tray, as it happened), and now he had some time to breathe before he started another song.

The day after he finished the second song, Ohno came home.

*

The first place Nino saw Ohno after he got back from his fishing trip was at the laundromat.

He hadn’t done laundry since moving in with Sho and Ohno, but luckily there was a place within walking distance. He got a weird text from an unknown number just as he got there, something like _I know there’s nothing in it for you but please do me the favor_ , but it wasn’t that surprising. Back when Nino had gotten this cell phone number Aiba had made it his friendship mission to memorize it, and he’d done such a good job at it that he sometimes gave it to people accidentally instead of his own. As with many of the weird things in his life, Nino blamed the weird messages and calls he sometimes got on Aiba.

He didn’t spend too much time thinking about this one. Instead, he sat in the plastic chair and stared at the load of whites spinning in the dryer, putting off getting out his DS as he repeated a new snatch of melody in his head to make sure he’d remember it.

The laundromat was nearly empty: just a family across the way and an older man over by the change machine. Nino wasn’t expecting it when someone sat down next to him. He jumped a bit, but Ohno laid a hand on his forearm.

“This is one of my favorite places,” he said.

Nino tried to calm his racing heart. “Really? This dingy--”

“Not dingy,” Ohno said, settling back into his own uncomfortable chair. He removed his hand in the process, but Nino’s skin still felt overly warm. “It’s a special place. You come, and you wait, and there’s nothing to do but sit here.”

“That doesn’t sound special in a good way.”

Ohno took a deep breath, slouching even further back. “It’s a break from everything. Like fishing without the fish.”

Nino wondered if he could get his DS out or if that would be rude after Ohno had just praised the fact that they had to sit there and do nothing.

He thought of something. “Have you even put your clothes in the washer?”

Ohno’s stillness changed almost imperceptibly. When he got up after a longer beat than was really warranted, he gave Nino a reproachful look that had Nino grinning.

It took Ohno a few minutes to get his first load going, but somehow Nino didn’t reach for his game. He let Ohno sit back down right next to him, though most people would’ve left a seat in the middle, and he didn’t say anything when Ohno’s renewed slouch ended up with him slumped enough to the side that their arms were pressed together.

They sat like that without speaking for twenty minutes. Ohno seemed completely zoned out the whole time, but Nino was starting to fidget from doing nothing for so long when his dryer finally stopped. As he reached in to grab the clean, warm clothes, he had a baffling impulse.

Instead of retrieving his clothes and leaving the laundromat, Nino put in a few more coins and started the dryer up again.

He sat back down in the seat next to Ohno, saying lightly, “Not quite dry.”

Ohno didn’t appear to be listening. He was staring across the room at the family, a dad with two girls of about four or five years of age.

“They’re pretty cute,” he mumbled, and Nino followed his gaze to see the little girls were sitting side by side, holding hands and giggling to each other.

“Were you ever that cute, Ohno-san?” Nino teased, but Ohno nodded.

“We won’t lose,” he whispered. He turned and gave Nino a slow smile, then reached down and took Nino’s hand in his.

Nino held very still, trying to understand what was happening, but after another glance at the two little girls, Ohno shifted in his chair, holding tight to Nino’s hand, and closed his eyes as if he were preparing to go to sleep.

Nino stared at him. But it didn’t actually feel that strange--didn’t feel strange at all, if he let himself relax. Maybe there wasn’t anything to read into it. Maybe he could sit here in this laundromat and hold hands with Ohno just because.

He looked over at their cuteness competition, who were oblivious to their existence. He sneaked a look at Ohno’s face. Ohno’s eyes were open again, but he didn’t move a muscle, just stared peacefully into space.

Nino laced his fingers through Ohno’s, holding his breath, but Ohno cooperated without a twitch.

“We won’t lose,” Nino repeated quietly, and saw Ohno give a small smile in his peripheral vision.

It was worth the wasted money for that smile.

*

The house was completely different with Ohno back. He saw Sho as little as ever, though Sho did manage to come home slightly earlier on the weekends. Nino tried to avoid the common areas on those nights. Whenever he passed Sho in the hall or the kitchen or the sidewalk outside, he’d get a tired, friendly smile, which was plenty of social interaction for Nino. But now that Ohno was home, there was almost always someone besides Nino in the house.

Even with Nino trying to stay in his room as much as possible, it seemed like he ran into Ohno every day. Not only that, somehow they’d end up talking. Ohno wasn’t all that talkative a person--unless you happened to bring up anything related to fish, which was a mistake Nino wouldn’t make twice--but something about him made Nino want to draw him out.

So he ended up poking Ohno’s sides in the mornings as they foraged for a late breakfast, making him laugh and answer questions about his career as a painter. (Ohno said it wasn’t exciting, but Nino suspected from the way he talked about what he was working on that Ohno put his soul into his art.) When they met in the hall on the way to or from the bath, which it turned out neither of them used when they thought they would, Nino would say something quick and unexpected, and Ohno’s eyes would light up. He’d stop walking as if he couldn’t help himself, and Nino would find himself drawn in like Ohno had a special gravity where Nino was concerned. It was a little embarrassing how much time Nino ended up spending standing around in a hallway talking to Ohno about nothing.

The most dangerous times were around dinner during the week, because they both ordered takeout more often than not, and it seemed like they got hungry at just about the same time. For some reason, Nino didn’t specify to the restaurant that he wanted his food delivered to the back door, so whenever it neared time to eat he’d emerge from his room and loiter in the living room or kitchen until the doorbell rang.

If Ohno had food already, he’d say something about ordering together next time, and Nino would deflect by sighing something about Ohno not being able to order him around so easily. If Ohno didn’t have food yet, they usually ended up on the couch watching TV. Nino never saw Ohno watching TV of his own volition, but no matter what Nino picked to watch, Ohno was charmingly easily amused. Nino was learning to love watching comedy variety shows with Ohno, because every once in a while there’d be something really funny, something Nino was sure would make Ohno laugh. Sometimes Ohno would laugh normally, but sometimes he wouldn’t, and Nino had learned to wait. It didn’t happen every time, but the sound of Ohno’s startled, belated laugh when something funny fully registered with his peculiar brain, that was Nino’s new favorite sound.

He liked to tease Ohno about it, too, not least because Ohno hardly seemed to notice. Ohno noticed a lot about Nino, it felt like, but it also felt like the ways Nino was a little too sharp, a little too insolent, either made Ohno laugh or just slid right off of him. Nino wouldn’t have ever referred to himself as insecure, but there was something about Ohno that made him feel like no matter what side of himself he showed Ohno, Ohno would like him just as much.

It wasn’t like he’d never felt something similar before, so he told himself the way he felt with Ohno wasn’t anything different from how he felt with his mom or with Aiba.

The times he believed that, he’d eat his takeout with Ohno in the common area, and when he didn’t, which was more frequent, he took it back to his own room to eat in safety.

But after a month and a half of getting uncomfortably comfortable with Ohno, eating takeout and chatting about nothing, touching casually and watching TV, Nino was starting to forget why he didn’t want to be distracted by someone right now.

He was settling into his new schedule, writing new songs, living in a new place, and he was making it work. He still got to see Aiba, plus some of his other friends if Aiba was persuasive enough, and he talked frequently on the phone with his mom and his sister. He was making enough money, for now at least, and he didn’t miss his old job as much as he might have expected given the satisfaction he’d gotten from knowing the position inside and out. He kept getting weird texts from that same number, but he’d named the contact “Aiba-chan’s Fault” and wasn’t even opening them before deleting them.

All in all, his life was stabilizing in just about every way. Job, friends, family, and home, Nino was no longer feeling the upheaval of a couple months before.

It was possible, just maybe, that it was the perfect time to be charmed by someone. Either way, it felt like in Ohno he’d met someone there was no resisting.

*

Nino wouldn’t have remembered something as ridiculous as his three-month anniversary of quitting his job, but Aiba had sent him a congratulatory e-card that morning like he’d been waiting for the occasion. Because of this, Nino also knew it was his two-month anniversary of living with Ohno and Sho, for as much as that meant to anybody. That night he and Ohno were on the couch watching a variety show as they waited for their takeout to come, as was starting to feel like a habit, and rather than saying anything sappy, Nino made a snide comment about Ohno not watching TV without him.

He didn’t mean much of anything by it, but Ohno said immediately, “Do too. The third Thursday--”

“Huh?”

“--of the month at 5:41pm, for ten minutes.” Ohno was still staring at the comedians on-screen like he wasn’t saying anything weird.

Nino considered possible responses. Finally he decided to treat it like Ohno was being serious. “That’s very specific. How do you remember?”

“I have an alarm set on my phone. By the way, I need to do laundry tomorrow.”

Nino laughed. “How is it by the way? That has nothing to do with anything!”

Ohno gave him a little shove with one hand, and Nino fell dramatically to the side, making sure to splutter loudly, but Ohno just pulled him back up again and went back to the conversation.

“Does too.”

Or what passed for him as conversation. “I should probably do laundry again myself,” Nino said experimentally, and Ohno nodded like that’d been his goal all along. “Speaking of which, Oh-chan, I saw one of your shirts on Sho-san the other day.”

Ohno scratched under his nose in a delicate, slightly off-putting way. “I don’t think so.” Then he laughed loudly at something on the TV.

Nino made an exasperated noise. “I’m turning that off unless you focus, old man. Tell me these two things and the show can live. First, what do you watch on the third Thursday of every month--”

“At 5:41pm…”

“And second, admit that I am correct about Sho-san wearing your shirt. I saw you washing it last time we did laundry, that blue one with the stripes, you know the one.”

The doorbell rang.

“Ah,” Ohno said. “That’s probably mine.”

“Oh-chan,” Nino whined, but Ohno was already off the couch.

“Tomorrow’s Thursday,” he said, grabbing his wallet from the side table.

Nino was going to whine again, then reconsidered. “The third Thursday?”

“Yeah.” Ohno got to the door and sighed as he looked into the little screen there. “It’s yours.”

“That Thai place you like is always slow,” Nino gloated. His knees creaked as he stood up, but not as loud as Ohno’s tended to. Nino liked teasing him about that as well.

“Going to eat out here?” Ohno asked, coming back to the couch with a pout. His t-shirt was clingy today, and his hair was messy, and Nino, brushing by him on his own way to the door, caught that particular Ohno scent that he could never figure out. He was becoming addicted to it.

He swallowed and focused on not tripping over his feet. At the door, he said, “Not tonight. But I’ll see you tomorrow at 5:41, weirdo.”

“It’ll be good,” Ohno said. “Just like my Thai food when it gets here.”

*

It turned out that the housemate Nino never saw, the tired but handsome, friendly but absent Sakurai Sho, had ten minutes per month of television time.

On the third Thursday at 5:41pm, Sho would take a break from his usual 80-hour-a-week job behind the scenes of a highbrow news program and step in front of the camera to go over some of his thoughts on finance and investing for the week.

Ohno, apparently, watched it religiously, though when Nino asked him what he’d learned from it he said, “... Save money?”

Nino couldn’t argue with that.

It was surreal watching a person he knew appear on TV. It turned out Nino had a better feel for Sho than he would’ve guessed, because all he could think when Sho said something or moved in some specific way was, _That’s Sho-san._

The person he nodded at in the hall in the hour before what Nino privately thought of as curfew, the person he ran into in the kitchen on weekend mornings on the not infrequent occasions Sho went in later to work, the person he’d seen several times on the way to and from the closest convenience store, that was the person he was watching now with his dull suit and immaculately styled hair. Part of Nino wanted to get on social media and divulge that the respectable and neatly presented Sakurai Sho on the news right then liked convenience store fried foods and jeans that were actually sweatpants, but he didn’t think anyone would care.

Because, as it happened, Sho’s segment on the show was deathly boring. Almost unbelievably so. Ohno spent the first few minutes making impressed noises every time the camera cut to a different angle of Sho, and in between those unfairly cute moments he’d slip in some comment about Sho being smart, and talking so well, and that Ohno couldn’t ever do what Sho was doing...

And then, before Sho’s ten minutes were even up, Ohno had fallen asleep.

Because Ohno had been so sweetly invested in Sho’s moment of glory, Nino’d held back from noting just how tedious the moment really, really was, but as soon as Ohno fell asleep he couldn’t help but laugh.

It was strange, though, because when the camera cut to a closeup of Sho, focusing in on his serious face and intelligent eyes, Nino saw what made Ohno tune in every month, even if he slept through half of it. It was clear Sho really knew what he was talking about, though Nino had lost the thread within the first minute, and he was so earnest about trying to convey it to his audience that his efforts became compelling if one didn’t try to listen to the actual words.

Sho might have chosen the most boring things to say, but his charisma still came through, Nino found. He could’ve changed the channel to the baseball game he knew was airing. He didn’t.

He watched every one of Sho’s ten minutes, then turned off the TV and sat next to the quietly snoring Ohno for a while, just thinking. He kind of wanted to see Sho, though he knew it’d be hours before that workaholic gave up and came home. He wanted to investigate this feeling that he knew Sho better than he’d thought, as well as the suspicion that Sho would talk to him with that same eloquence, that same charisma, without any cameras to see. It wasn’t just that Sho would do that with anyone, either, Nino thought to himself, absently putting his hand over Ohno’s.

The way Sho’s eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked at Nino even though he barely spent any time with him was replaying in Nino’s head. He found he was intrigued, belatedly, both by Sho as a person and by the feeling he gave that he and Nino could be good friends given time and opportunity. There wasn’t really anything there, not yet, but it felt like there was potential.

On the other hand, Sho worked many of the hours that Nino was awake, and a couple of the ones he usually wasn’t, so it wasn’t going to go anywhere.

He was letting himself register mild disappointment that he couldn’t do much follow-up on the realization of Sho’s complex appeal when a voice said groggily, “It was good, right?”

Nino squeezed Ohno’s hand. “He was good, yeah.”

“So smart,” Ohno murmured, snuggling deeper into the couch without taking his hand from Nino’s. “Don’t know how he can talk like that…”

Nino snorted. “Practice, I would think. If you talked about something other than fish once in a while, you might improve.”

A soft snore was his only answer.

*

Sho didn’t make it to another third Thursday before he lost his job. To be more precise, his show was canceled, but the result was the same.

It happened the day before another one of Ohno’s long fishing trips. Nino emerged from the bathroom in his towel and slippers, and there in the living room with Ohno was Sho, home despite it being the middle of the day. They were talking as Nino came in, but at the sight of him Sho stood up and came over.

He was still in a suit, but he looked less put-together somehow, like something essential had come undone.

“Nino, uh, this affects you as well, I suppose, so… I won’t be going to work anymore. They decided the ratings didn’t warrant renewed contracts, so starting today I’m looking for a new job.”

Nino had a moment of unreasoning guilt, like his wish to see Sho more often and figure him out was to blame for Sho losing his job. Then he thought of the focused, passionate look in Sho’s eyes on TV, and he forgot to think of anything but worrying about Sho.

He put his hand on Sho’s shoulder, but cursed under his breath and yanked it back at the feeling of making a wet mark on Sho’s suit jacket.

“No, it’s okay,” Sho said quickly, and snatched Nino’s hand out of the air and placed it back on his shoulder. It was a weird thing to do, and he seemed to realize it, because his hand dropped and those shoulders slumped. He said, “I’m all turned around. What am I going to do?”

Nino squeezed his shoulder, meeting Ohno’s eyes beyond him. “Take a breather, Sho-san. You’ll figure it out.”

“It’s too late for me to change direction,” Sho said. He didn’t look up.

He was clearly in the self-pity portion of the conversation, so Nino laughed. “Right. Because none of us have ever changed careers after turning thirty, huh?”

Sho looked up, expression changing. “But…”

“But I did it voluntarily, I know.” Nino squeezed Sho’s shoulder again, then pulled away. “Get that one to buy you dinner tonight, Sho-san, that’s my advice. Having other people pay for things always makes me feel better.”

Ohno mumbled something, but Nino was already most of the way to his room. He didn’t want to make Sho feel like he couldn’t break down if he needed to, and the presence of an almost-friend would surely make him feel constrained.

At his door, he turned, wishing he could do something more for Sho, but Ohno was there by Sho’s side, pulling him into a hug. Nino retired to his room and decided to give them space for the rest of the day.

*

The next morning, Nino felt like having something more substantial than milk buns. The coast was clear--no downtrodden former TV producers or givers of what looked like excellent hugs in sight--so he set about making himself a late breakfast.

He was just getting started on the eggs when his roommates got home. Any escape with uncooked eggs would lack plausibility, so he didn’t try, just smiled and greeted them in as normal a manner as possible. At least he was wearing clothes this time.

Ohno was carrying grocery bags. Sho didn’t have anything but an aura of despondency, and Nino noticed that he’d been wearing the fake jeans out of the house, which was a new low in fashion. They were talking about Ohno’s trip, and it sounded rather serious.

Therefore after their good morning greetings, Nino said politely, “Don’t mind me. I should be done here in a minute anyway.” Given the state of his breakfast, this was not quite true, but it gave Ohno and Sho the excuse they needed to go back to their conversation.

“If all the meals aren’t gone when I get back, I’ll tell my mom on you,” Ohno said threateningly. He was unpacking the grocery bags, which proved to contain many tupperware containers filled with what looked like homecooked food.

“I’m grateful for all the trouble she went to for me,” Sho said, in a blatant lack of promising to eat them.

Ohno’s face gave a little twitch in Nino’s peripheral vision, but he didn’t push the issue. “She said these are dinners, so you’re supposed to take the one you want out in the morning and put it in the fridge to defrost.”

“I was there when she said that.”

Sho sounded tired and irritated. Nino wished he could disappear, but his eggs were still runny. 

“And they have labels,” Ohno continued stubbornly. “And you can put them right in the microwave.”

 

“Satoshi-kun,” Sho started, voice close to a growl.

“I’m surprised you even know the word ‘defrost,’ Oh-chan,” Nino put in quickly. Ohno and Sho weren’t quite fighting, not yet anyway, but it gave Nino a sick feeling in his stomach to hear them right then. He wasn’t very good about being around people who weren’t getting along.

Both of them looked over like they’d forgotten he was there, which made Nino’s shoulders hunch defensively.

Sho gave a weary smile. “He’s just repeating what his mom said half an hour ago.”

Ohno wasn’t to be deterred that easily, and part of Nino couldn’t blame him. Sho wasn’t used to being at home much, let alone all the time, and with Ohno gone for two weeks there was no one to help him adjust. On top of that, he was clearly depressed about his job, so the chances of him properly taking care of himself of his own volition had to be close to nil.

“I put your vitamins out here,” Ohno said. “And all your clothes are clean, so you won’t have to do laundry. Don’t sleep on the couch--”

“You’re a hypocrite,” Sho interrupted with minimal heat. “Half the time you end up asleep there.”

“And now that we’ve got Nino, you don’t have to get another job right away, okay?” Ohno crossed his arms over his chest and looked hard at Sho. “Money isn’t going to run out any time soon.”

“I’m sorry you have to listen to my substitute parent when you’re just trying to have breakfast, Nino,” Sho said, and this time his tone verged on nasty. “You thought you were moving in somewhere stable, and look, I can’t even keep a job or feed myself.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything like that,” Nino said, keeping his voice calm. “I’m lucky to have this place to live, and you’re lucky to have such a good friend.”

Sho subsided, and it seemed Ohno had run out of admonishments. In another small miracle, Nino’s eggs were cooked. He collected his food, murmured something about washing the dishes later, and made to escape.

As he left, he heard Sho give a long sigh. “Sorry, Satoshi-kun.”

“I just wish I weren’t going right now, but--”

And then Nino was safely in his room.

*

From what Nino could tell, Sho lasted almost a week doing things semi-properly before his constant job-searching, anxiety, and depression meant some of the things Ohno had reminded him about started falling by the wayside.

Nino had finished another song, and even got it done early this time, so he was out and about more than usual. One day he had lunch with Aiba and their married friends, Kazama and Kazuna, another day went with Aiba to the batting cages, and the next accomplished his annual clothing purge of things too worn even for his own low standards. This was generally followed by the annual reluctant buying of new staple clothing, but he was putting that off despite the fact that it usually involved buying perhaps two t-shirts, a pair of pajama pants, and socks. (He preferred to steal his underwear from Aiba, who also gifted him some occasionally as a preventative measure.)

He missed Ohno, but whenever he went into the common areas of the house, Sho was there. He’d usually be perched in the armchair typing away furiously on his laptop, but sometimes he’d be napping on the couch, or slumped at the kitchen table eating with zero enthusiasm. For all Sho was someone Nino hadn’t known very long, it was startling how plain wrong it felt to see him eating without enjoying his food.

Nino seemed to catch him at all his pouty moments, which would’ve been entertaining if it weren’t so awkward. He’d walk in to hear Sho complaining to himself about taking his vitamins, or tossing Ohno’s mom’s tupperware into the sink unwashed, or flopping onto the couch in only his towel, the last of which gave Nino quite a view before Sho saw him there and got himself rearranged more modestly.

It wasn’t fun to see the person who’d been shining, if boringly, on television not one month previously now reduced to daytime sleeping and binge-eating ice cream. At the same time, that feeling Nino had gotten from Sho, that they had potential to hit it off if only they had the opportunity, meant he couldn’t help being pleased at seeing Sho so often.

Sometimes if Sho had clearly been job-searching for hours, Nino would come in and sit down with a snack, but do nothing, because Sho’s innate good manners meant he couldn’t let them sit there in silence. It meant Sho got a break, and Nino got conversation, and it turned out he’d been right. Sho’s eyes sparkled when he looked at Nino. And Nino suspected more and more that his own eyes sparkled when he looked at Sho.

And honestly, Nino related to this Sho, this lazy, cranky Sho, far more than he had to the polished, tired, driven Sho of a week before. Maybe Nino didn’t have the same predilection for camouflage-printed clothing, but lounging around all day and forgetting to eat actual meals? Sometimes it was like looking in a mirror.

The time was also giving Nino opportunities to confirm what he’d felt instinctively before: Sho was interesting, smart, and kind. It was easy to see why he and Ohno had been friends for so long. Nino wondered how long they’d been living together, and resolved to ask at the next likely moment.

Given such proximity with a person he liked, Nino was finding it hard to hold back from over-familiarity. It only took a week of seeing Sho all the time to start to forget that he hadn’t known Sho forever, like he had Aiba, and he hadn’t established mutual weirdness, like he had with Ohno. It both helped and didn’t help that Sho didn’t appear to mind.

The halfway point of Ohno being gone marked a shift for both Sho and Nino. Sho had started missing vitamins here, left dirty dishes in the sink overnight there, and Nino came in to the common area in the morning more than once to find Sho asleep on the couch. On the other hand, Nino was drawn out of his room more and more, wanting to see Sho. He liked the way Sho brightened at the sight of him, and it was becoming a personal goal for Nino to make Sho laugh. He started working on his next song, but he wasn’t getting in any long stretches of progress because it’d occur to him that he hadn’t talked to Sho in an hour, and should probably check on him.

Even though he put it like that to himself, and even though Sho really was getting more and more pathetic, Nino knew deep down that he just wanted to see Sho.

Still, he found himself wanting to do something to help. A few days after the beginning of Sho’s steep decline, Nino came out of his room around lunchtime to find the house empty.

The counter was a mess, the sink was piled with dishes, and when Nino checked the fridge, there wasn’t a tupperware with homemade dinner there defrosting. Eating the dinners from Ohno’s mom was the one thing Sho had kept up with since getting fired, until now. As if to put salt in the wound, Nino saw two form letters on the table, both letting one Sakurai Sho know that while he was an excellent candidate, he wasn’t the right fit for their companies.

Nino, despite liking to push boundaries when it came to touching and conversation, hated stepping over lines when it came to people’s emotional space. If he were in Sho’s place, he knew he wouldn’t want someone he didn’t know all that well interfering with his life, not unless he was about to hit bottom in a way that would affect more than just himself.

At the same time, the idea of Sho’s daily life getting worse and worse while Ohno was gone and Nino watched it happen, it was too much for him to take. Even if he hadn’t known him that long, Nino cared about Sho. And while there wasn’t anything Nino could do when it came to finding him a new job, there were things he could do at home.

First he folded up the letters and put them back into their envelopes, then laid them suggestively on top of the closed lid of the trash can. He cleaned off the table and the counter. He washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away in the cabinets.

He hesitated in front of the opened freezer door, looking at the small stack that was left of the meals that Ohno had so badly wanted Sho to eat. Sho was a grownup, able to feed himself however he wanted, and if he wanted to eat potato chips and day-old donuts instead of Ohno’s mom’s food, he could. Not only that, but the table, the counter, the dishes--those were things in the house that Nino shared, and while he was sure Sho wouldn’t like it, Nino could claim that he needed to have a clean kitchen since it was his space too.

There was no reason for him to put one of Ohno’s mom’s meals into the fridge to defrost except to take care of Sho.

In the end, it was remembering the worried look on Ohno’s face that decided it for Nino. He picked out one labeled curry with vegetables and set it to defrost in the fridge.

He turned to leave the kitchen, and there was Sho.

Nino couldn’t breathe. After a moment, he forced a smile and said, “How long have you been standing there?” with a tone that hopefully implied he was impressed by Sho’s stealth entering of the house and not that he was worried Sho had seen Nino meddling with his life.

Sho didn’t move, just looked at Nino with an unreadable expression. “What about the vitamins?”

It was clear he knew exactly what was going on, so Nino didn’t pretend not to understand. “What, am I supposed to shove them down your throat?” he joked weakly, then sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sho asked. There was something dangerous in his expressionless voice.

Nino couldn’t think of anything to say. But he’d made Sho upset by stepping over a line he shouldn’t have, so instead of clamming up or deflecting with humor, he straightened his shoulders, looked Sho in the eye, and let himself be vulnerable in a way he normally didn’t.

“I consider you my friend, Sho-kun. I know you’re uncomfortable with what I did, and I apologize, but it’s hard to see someone you care about hurting and not be able to do anything about it, so I did something, even if it wasn’t my place.”

Sho’s eyes widened. After a moment, he took a step toward Nino, then another, making Nino’s breath catch. He came within touching distance and reached out.

He opened the fridge and took out the tupperware Nino had put in a minute before. He was very close and looked very serious, and Nino’s heart was beating so fast he felt like he might pass out. He didn’t see any reason why that would be, but it was, and he had to force himself to focus.

Sho turned the meal over in his hands. “Curry tonight, huh?” he said at last, putting it back in the fridge and closing the door. “Sounds good.”

“I’m glad,” Nino got out, then tried to edge between Sho and the table to get out of the room.

Sho touched his wrist as he went by, and Nino stopped involuntarily to look up into his eyes. The warm touch on his skin lingered, then dropped away.

“Thank you, Nino.”

Nino shook his head automatically, still feeling like it hadn’t been his place to do anything even when he’d wanted to help so much. He said, “Ohno-kun would want--”

He stopped, not knowing how to put into words that Ohno valued Sho as a person--like Nino did--and wouldn’t want him making himself unhappy over something that wasn’t his fault.

Sho stared at him for a moment. They were still so close that Nino could see the stubble on Sho’s chin.

Sho straightened a little, accentuating their height difference, and suddenly he looked a little less tired. “You’re right, Nino. None of us are in it alone, are we?”

Nino shook his head mutely as he watched Sho’s face settle into an expression of resolve. This time when he tried to move past, Sho let him, but before Nino left the kitchen, he said, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I missed dinner last night too, you know.”

Nino stopped and turned, probably making a very unattractive face. He’d really thought Sho had kept up with the tupperware meals if nothing else.

Sho smiled at him, eyes sparkling. “Would you help me dispose of the evidence? I think there’s another curry in the freezer, and it really shouldn’t go to waste.”

“You want to eat dinner together tonight?” Nino blurted out, then wanted to slap himself. It wasn’t such a big deal--Nino had just said they were friends, after all. “I mean, thank you. A free meal is a terrible thing to waste.”

Nino’s phone rang, and Sho made a courteous motion that he should answer it. A check of his screen showed _”Aiba-chan’s Fault”_. Crap, he kept forgetting to get Aiba to give whoever it was the right number. Nino dismissed the call and looked up to see Sho getting the other curry meal out and putting it in the refrigerator next to his.

He’d probably say something else when he was done, so Nino said quickly, “See you tonight!” and scooted away.

*

Maybe it wasn’t knowing each other forever or establishing mutual weirdness that was important with Sho. Maybe knowing they liked each other was enough. At dinner that night, Nino let himself reach out and settle tentative, friendly touches on Sho.

Nino patted his arm, bumped their hips, kicked playfully at Sho’s feet when they were in his way. He perched his chin on Sho’s shoulders and loudly complained when his chin, with a little help from him, slid right off.

Sho not only seemed not to mind, he reciprocated. He rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder while they waited for the food to heat up, brushed a bit of fuzz off the front of his shirt when Nino had his hands full with dishes, and smacked him on the head when Nino made the crack about his sloping shoulders.

When it came down to it, Nino was a tactile person, and now there was this person right there whom he was finding himself liking more and more, with no Ohno around to touch instead. Actually, if he thought about touching Ohno in front of Sho, or Sho in front of Ohno, it made him feel strangely anxious.

He put that thought off for another day and let himself enjoy dinner with his friend, who was looking more animated than he had in weeks. The curry really was delicious.

*

Nino and Sho made it through until Ohno got home, though Sho still hadn’t gotten any bites on the job front. Nino was microwaving cup noodles while Sho washed dishes, so he got to see Sho’s expression at the homecoming.

At first glance he was joyful, all bright eyes and forgotten soapy hands, but then his face went aghast.

Nino turned and there was Ohno, home at last, with a face burnt browner than when Sho tried to make toast. Sneaking another look at Sho, Nino could barely keep from laughing. Sho looked genuinely horrified.

“Satoshi-kun! With everything going on, I forgot to put in the sunscreen!”

Ohno blinked at him for a second before removing what Nino couldn’t quite believe was but certainly looked to be a fanny pack and dropping it on the floor. It appeared to be all the luggage he had taken on his two-week trip.

“Where would you have put it?” Nino mused. “And where can you even buy a fanny pack these days--I thought they only existed when your mom buys them for you at Disneyland when you’re seven.”

“I’m home,” Ohno said belatedly. He came and slumped at the kitchen table, looked sleepy and satisfied. “I caught so many fish.”

Nino whispered loudly, “Are they in your adult fanny pack?”

“I’m getting the aloe,” Sho announced. “After all your progress, oh dear…”

Ohno snickered and quoted in a mumble, “S-Substitute parent, huh.”

Nino grinned at him. “Have you been stewing about that the whole time you were gone?”

Ohno grinned back. “Not really.” He got up and opened the freezer, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of frozen dinners.

“They were delicious,” Sho said briskly. “Put this on your face and wherever else you got burnt.”

Except for closing the freezer door, Ohno didn’t move. Nino looked between the two of them as Sho held out the lotion bottle with one damp, soapy hand and Ohno refused to take it. The microwave pinged.

After months, Nino shouldn’t feel like an intruder anymore, he told himself. He felt so comfortable with Ohno it was a little gross, and he was getting to the point where he was completely himself around Sho as well.

Why did it feel so different being with them when they were together?

“Ah,” Sho said at last, breaking the stalemate. He put the bottle on the table and reached out to rest a hand on Ohno’s shoulder instead. “Welcome home, Satoshi-kun.”

“I’m home,” Ohno repeated, smiling up at him.

Nino couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t weird. He settled on, “I’d better eat these while they’re hot,” which was embarrassing, but Ohno was examining the lotion bottle while Sho fussed over the soap and water he’d left on Ohno’s threadbare t-shirt.

He’d planned to eat in the kitchen as was becoming his habit, but instead Nino went to his room. He queued up one of his favorite games and resolved to immerse himself in its world until he could be normal again in his own.

*

Nino couldn’t explain it even to himself, but that new constraint in his feelings toward Ohno and Sho continued as the weeks of Sho being unemployed went on.

Nine times out of ten, when he left his room now they were _both_ there. He found them eating meals together, watching TV together, once even coming out of the bathroom together. He ran into them on their way back from the convenience store, laughing over some magazine Sho had bought, and then at the laundromat.

When he came in with his laundry bag over his shoulder and saw Ohno and Sho sitting there side by side, for some reason he wanted to walk right back out. Ohno was in full daydream mode while Sho was reading what looked like three newspapers at once.

They liked him, Nino knew that. And he liked them too--liked them maybe too much. But now that he saw them together being what certainly looked to Nino like best friends, it felt like there was no place for him. And the depth of his irrational disappointment only served to make him realize that his feelings for them were--

Nino recoiled from his next thought and simply refused to have it. The next second, he had to force a smile as Sho looked up and waved him over. Sho managed to drop half his newspapers with the movement and Ohno didn’t so much as twitch, and Nino couldn’t help but chuckle despite his inconvenient emotions.

*

After the awkward laundry trip, Nino started to try to avoid his roommates.

It was silly, it really was, because nothing had changed between any of them. They all got along, were all friends, and just because two of them had been friends for longer didn’t mean the third should feel left out. It wasn’t like Nino had only started to have… whatever kind of feelings he had for whichever one of them he had them for… after Ohno got back, so he didn’t know why he was having this crisis.

Admittedly, he didn’t much try to figure it out, either. When he’d wanted to be around them--separately--he had been, and now that he didn’t want to be around them, he wasn’t. It didn’t have to be more complicated than that, he decided.

So he went to the laundromat at weird times. He bathed when he could tell they’d left the house, and used the kitchen early in the morning. He started keeping snacks in his room again. When he walked to the convenience store, he took the roundabout way, and whenever they knocked on his door to invite him to eat with them, he said that he had a major deadline and would have to pass.

He didn’t have a major deadline, because he’d finished two songs, early again. Whatever his emotional block was with his roommates, it didn’t hinder his songwriting one bit.

After a couple of weeks of this, the invitations from Ohno and Sho started to dwindle.

When it had been a full month, Nino took a hard look at himself in the mirror one night and admitted he was pining for people who lived in the same house with him. There was no reason to hide, and whatever his issues were, he wasn’t going to get over them by staying in his room forever.

He missed them.

And he’d been frustrated with himself for a month, and embarrassed about being unable to control his feelings, so when he had this realization and it was accompanied by an itch for snacks, he decided it was gastrointestinal fate.

He checked the time on his phone: 10:10pm. Curfew had started.

Fuck it.

His being ten minutes over wouldn’t kill them, and Nino wanted the snacks in the kitchen, not the ones in his room. (He wanted to see Sho and Ohno.)

He boldly left his room after curfew and walked, albeit quietly, to the kitchen. It felt illicit to be there after his ‘curfew’, but he really didn’t think they’d mind.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

There they were, sitting side by side on the couch. They were very close together and Sho had his arm around Ohno’s shoulders.

Nino was about to call out to them, because it might be permissible to come out a little after 10pm but it’d definitely make it weird if he tried to be stealthy about it, but something held him back.

There wasn’t anything on the TV. They didn’t seem to be talking. They were just sitting on the couch together, intimately close.

Nino was just starting to have the thought, _Are they cuddling?!_ when Ohno turned his head toward Sho and tilted his chin, just so, like he was waiting.

And Sho, unaware of Nino’s disbelieving stare, chuckled softly and obliged Ohno with a brief, sweet kiss.

Nino didn’t breathe until he was back in his room.

*

“--and all I’m saying is, I’m happy for them and all, but don’t you think they should have told me? Maybe not the first day, but by however many months we’ve hit now, now that they know I’m not an asshole who’d out them or something, wasn’t it fair, wasn’t it right, wasn’t it their solemn duty as my friends to let me know about their beautiful love, this is what I’m saying to you, Aiba-san.”

Aiba had known Nino for a very long time, so he could obviously tell that Nino wasn’t through venting enough to hear any answer yet. They were sitting in one of their favorite restaurants, though Nino guessed their favorite table had been taken when Aiba got there since they were at a bigger one instead. Nino had been complaining for a solid fifteen minutes already. Aiba kept sending the waiter away apologetically because Nino had shown up, plopped down, perched his elbow on the table and his head on his hand in a posture of despairing outrage, and let it all out.

There was no one in the world with whom Nino could be as completely selfish as he felt safe being with Aiba, because he knew that Aiba knew there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for him, including letting him be selfish right back when he needed to be.

Right now Aiba was nodding very briskly with an expression of great sympathy, though Nino could see an untrustworthy twinkle in his eyes.

Nino was finally running out of steam, so he pulled it all together and said perhaps a little too loudly, “So there it is! And what do you have to say about that?”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

Nino lifted his head from his hand and opened his mouth to retort that he absolutely was _not_ jealous. Then he closed his mouth, because Aiba was still there on his left, still with the great sympathy and the twinkle, and the cool tone and objectionable words had come from Nino’s right.

Neck aching from holding his dramatic position for so long, Nino turned to look in the direction the voice had come from.

There was someone else sitting at their table.

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the man repeated, looking serious despite a smirk lingering in one upturned corner of his mouth. “Though I’m not sure which of them you’re jealous of.”

Nino closed his eyes hard, but when he opened them the insolent, overly good-looking person on his right was still there.

“Aiba-shi,” he said slowly. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Ah!” Aiba said, brightening at once. “I’d forgotten you hadn’t met in person yet, and then he was in the bathroom when you got here. This is Matsujun, of course!”

Nino boggled. “And who the fuck is that!”

“There is no need to be so rude,” Aiba chided. “Just because he recognizes that you’re jealous, and I think you’re jealous of _both_ of them, you don’t have to pretend not to know who he is.”

There was a long silence, punctuated only by the stranger’s exasperated sigh.

Finally Nino said, “It is impossible for me to know who this person is any less.”

“This is what I’ve been trying to tell you, Aiba-kun,” ‘Matsujun’ put in.

“No, no, no,” Aiba said, shaking his head like he couldn’t be fooled quite that easily. “This is _Matsujun._ The one you’ve been texting with about your old job!”

“We haven’t been texting, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” the other one snapped. “He hasn’t answered any of them, or my calls.”

Aiba paused, wise smile freezing on his face, then frowned. “But why wouldn’t he?”

“Because I didn’t--and still don’t--know who he is! Why did I just spill my personal business about which apparently neither of you is equipped to judge to some superfluously eyebrowed stranger off a magazine cover?”

The stranger sighed again. Nino was starting to relate to him if only because he was just as frustrated with Aiba as Nino was.

“Ehhh? But Matsujun, I sent that text right before yours, explaining everything! You were there when I sent it, and despite how he seems right now, Nino isn’t stupid. Once he read my text, there’s no way he’d ignore you, so…”

Nino huffed out his breath impatiently. “So hand it over.”

“Huh?”

“Hand over your phone, Aiba-chan. Let’s see this text of yours,” Nino demanded. When his friend had complied with an obstinate expression, Nino scrolled through his sent mail.

While he was searching, ‘Matsujun’ ordered a salad. After a guilty pause, Aiba ordered as well, including a hamburg steak meal for Nino since that was always what he got there anyway.

“Here we go,” Nino breathed, finding the texts from the day he’d received the first one from eyebrows man. That first day in the laundromat, when he’d first held Ohno’s hand--irrelevant.

There it was, a very long text explaining how a person named Matsumoto Jun had taken over Nino’s old job and wanted to ask his advice about a couple of things, and how he’d be texting soon and seemed nervous so Aiba wanted Nino to be nice to him. Aiba’d gone on a long tangent about Jun having just moved to Tokyo and seeming stressed about doing such a big job, making sure to compliment Nino in the process to butter him up.

Not that he’d needed to, because Nino wasn’t such a jerk that he wouldn’t have responded helpfully to that first text from Matsujun, if he’d understood what was being said.

The person at fault for his not understanding was, of course, one Aiba Masaki.

Nino put the phone down on the table with an ominous clunk. “You sent it to yourself, you twit.”

“No, no,” Aiba said, beginning to panic. “I have your number memorized.”

“But I explained everything again in later messages,” the stranger protested. “His idiocy shouldn’t have ruined the whole thing.”

“He mixes our numbers up with people all the time,” Nino explained, turning to face him. “So after the first one I didn’t open them. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Ninomiya Kazunari.”

He was offered a stiff bow. “Matsumoto Jun. I apologize for the confusion.”

“Oh no,” Nino said soothingly, casting a poisonous glance at Aiba. “I expect these sorts of things where he’s concerned.”

“Hey, wait a minute--” Aiba put in, but Jun cut him off.

“That makes total sense to me, considering. It’s a little late now, but I was wondering if you could explain a bit how you do your job? There wasn’t much documentation left for me to go over.”

Jun seemed like a nice fellow, if one ignored the jealousy accusation, but with such a vague question Nino couldn’t resist. “Absolutely, Matsumoto-kun. First, I play a video game.”

“What?”

“But I mute the TV, and I let my mind fill in the music. After a while, I start to hear the same songs over and over. I pick the one that fits my goal, then imagine how it might sound if it were being released for a soundtrack. And then I write it.”

“Did you misunderstand my question, Ninomiya-san? Or are you just being a--”

“I know it’s hard to take in,” Nino said, sighing dramatically. “Creating a melody from nothing. Like a god, really.”

Aiba snickered. “Like a god!”

“I can see you two are well-suited in idiocy,” Jun said, rigid with wounded pride.

Nino relented. “I’ll send you my spreadsheets tonight, Matsumoto-san. Is there anything specific you need help with, since you have me here?”

Jun just looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “There is, Ninomiya-san. What is one supposed to do when their friend is in love unrequitedly, and twice over?”

Nino’s eyes went wide. No one spoke.

It seemed Jun had bite as well, but Nino wasn’t so easily trifled with. “Did you just call us friends, Matsumoto-san?”

He was delighted with Jun’s immediate flush at his slip of the tongue.

Aiba, of course, seized on what to him was the most important part. “Now we’re all friends!”

Jun hadn’t recovered by the time their food came, and for a while it was blessedly quiet.

Then Aiba, of course, had to say, “Well, I’m sorry for you, but I think it’s great. Even though you haven’t let me meet them, even though I want to so much! Just from the way you’ve talked about them, and hearing about that kiss… They sound lovely.” He turned to Jun and whispered conspiratorially, “I think they’re my future friends, too.”

“Of course it’s lovely,” Nino snapped. “But what should I do?”

“What else can you do?” Jun said, making Nino eye him suspiciously. It was really far too early in their supposed friendship for Jun to be offering him love advice. “If you can’t have them, don’t you want to be friends? Well, looks like you can’t have them, so all you can do is get over it.”

About to ignore this, Nino paused. If he couldn’t have them, whatever that meant exactly, did he want to be friends?

He did. Sho and Ohno _were_ his friends. He cared about them, and no amount of inner turmoil would negate that.

Crap. He was going to have to be a grownup. He really did have to get over it.

“I’m not sending you those spreadsheets,” he muttered, but Jun only laughed.

Aiba, of course, took this as a sign that their friendship was meant to be. Nino was just glad he was getting some free food out of this fiasco, because he sure as hell wasn’t paying after Aiba made such a mess of things and Jun gave such unnecessarily to-the-point advice.

It helped that Aiba had accidentally dumped half the salt shaker in his hayashi rice, and that Jun’s salad was downright pitiful. As always, Nino’s hamburg steak was perfection.

*

If someone had asked Nino six months previously whether he wanted to make friends with someone new, he would’ve replied promptly that he had enough friends already, thank you. Six months ago, he’d never met Sho and Ohno, but even now he sometimes felt that friendship was a pain, requiring more time and money and attention than it should. It was worth it, of course--otherwise he wouldn’t have the friends he did--but he felt like he was set on the friendship front.

Feeling set on the friendship front wasn’t actually relevant, he was learning, when you met someone you cared about so much that all the trouble of friendship became not only easier to bear, but sometimes even desirable.

Nino wanted there to be times he had to cut down on playing video games because he was busy hanging out with Sho and Ohno. He even, once in a while, thought it might be nice to treat them to a meal.

Friendship that strong, he figured, wouldn’t be defeated by petty jealousy, no matter what other people thought the jealousy sprang from. So the day after his dinner with Aiba and some stranger (and/or his new friend Matsujun), he switched back from avoidance mode to companionship mode, even though Sho and Ohno were there together.

They looked a little startled when he came in and plopped down in the armchair and asked, “Can I watch this movie with you guys?” but he didn’t see any hesitation in their agreement. He hung around with them late enough and chummily enough that they asked him to eat dinner with them, and then he did. Ohno’s Thai place wasn’t bad at all, turned out.

It wasn’t as hard as Nino had feared. In fact, all the things in his head when he wasn’t with them, all the worries about being around them together, seemed to drop away after a while of actually _being_ with them. True, it was awkward at first, and he still had inconvenient emotions, plus some embarrassing physical responses, but there was something to be said for people you liked so much you forgot why you didn’t want to like them that much.

There was about two weeks of that, the awkwardness, those hard emotions, and then the blissful forgetting that came from enjoying spending time with them. Then somehow or other Nino acclimated, and the initial awkwardness fell away. Even the inconvenient emotions seemed to settle to something more endurable. (The sexual frustration only increased, but at least he could do something about that.)

He liked them too much--so be it. There was only a problem with that if he made one, and he wasn’t going to.

So he went with them to the laundromat and the convenience store, and he treated them to a meal on the six-month anniversary of his moving in with them, though he didn’t tell them that was why. (Sho remembered anyway.)

He listened to Sho complain about his seemingly endless job quest and offered advice when he seemed like he could take it and distracted him when he he couldn’t. He teased Ohno about his lingering burnt appearance and frequently pretended to lose him if anything in their surroundings was a dark brown. He touched them both naturally, reciprocally, and without fretting about it, which was as simple as letting his body do what it wanted to do anyway.

Nino introduced them to his favorite variety shows and got them into the mobile phone game he liked. Ohno decided he was going to learn to cook and invited Nino and Sho to go with him to a class, though when Sho hesitated like he was considering saying yes Ohno’s face went immediately worried. If Nino was in the common area around the right time, Sho made them all watch the news together. That was when Ohno and Nino got most of their mobile phone gaming done, but as long as they were there Sho didn’t seem to mind.

Nino was always back in his room by 10pm, though he was careful not to be pointed about that. He didn’t want anything to upset the balance inside himself or the balance they were striking together.

Whenever he felt out of place with them, he told himself he was making his own kind of place by their side. He saw them both nearly every day, sometimes just for a moment and sometimes for long stretches, but neither of them gave any sign that he was taking up too much of their time.

On the contrary, when Sho got another job at last, they made a point of knocking on his door to invite him to their celebration. Ohno had bought a cake and Sho never seemed to stop smiling. They’d wanted him there, so Nino couldn’t stop smiling either.

After months of having Sho around all the time, it was a little hard for Ohno to let him go back into the workforce, Nino could tell, but they were proud of him and his fancy new position as a departmental advisor at his alma mater. He got to wear his suits again, and he carried a briefcase, and he walked with purpose out the door every morning and came back tired in the evening. He looked overwhelmed and happy, so Nino tried to console Ohno as best he could given he missed Sho as well.

Ohno had some big exhibition of his work coming up, so he was out of the house more, too, which helped distract him. It even helped Nino, because his skill and punctuality had garnered him an excellent reputation at his job, which meant he had more songs to write than before.

They still came easily, even if he didn’t do the video game method. Perhaps the dreaded phrase spoken by his now-frequent correspondent, the diligent and strong-featured Matsujun, was why, though he tried not to think that too often. _Unrequited love_ might lead to creative inspiration, and in the past Nino had even preferred it to actual relationships because he was lazy and (if he had to admit it) a romantic, but unrequited love with two people at once--no, he wasn’t prepared to admit that Jun was right to use that particular phrase. But whatever unresolved emotions he had, it only seemed fair that they helped him with his work.

*

Nino, despite his natural inclination, did actually have to leave the house sometimes. He’d visited his mom in Niigata twice, his sister in Kyoto once, and of course there was always his best friend, so close to home that every once in a while Aiba would show up outside with a baseball mitt at an ungodly hour and make Nino come be a substitute on his grasslot team.

The worst offender, though, was work. The company Nino wrote for was a fairly touchy-feely place, as far as profit-seeking music agencies went. Ever since he’d established himself as a full-time songwriter they liked for him to come in to talk things over when they gave his song to the artist who would sing it. This would probably be exciting to most people, but since Nino didn’t care about celebrities, it was just another reason he had to leave the house. Some of the artists, if they had enough clout, declined the favor. Some had no choice, and some welcomed the chance to talk to him about what they should be putting into the song he wrote for them.

There was paperwork to be signed, too, and sometimes higher-ups wanted to give him the details on his new song in person, so all in all work was lucky it paid him decently or he’d have to give it up.

(But not really, because there hadn’t been a day since he quit his ‘real’ job that he regretted it.)

Work was why he found himself in the kitchen one morning with the sun barely risen, staring at the coffeemaker with desperate eyes and trying to psych himself up to go in and turn down the honor of mentoring some newbie. Doing that would mean he had to be out of the house even _more_ , which was the kind of honor he didn’t need.

After he’d inhaled his first cup of coffee, he noticed something different about the room. Now that Sho had a job again, Ohno had started doing little things for him in the kitchen the night before--putting his vitamins out on the table, arranging his favorite mug next to them, and sometimes adding as a surprise one of the cheap individually wrapped pastries their local convenience store stocked: one of Sho’s guilty pleasures. Nino wasn’t there when he did it since it was past curfew, but he’d heard Sho thanking Ohno for it once, and on the times when Nino had been required to be up this early he’d seen the stuff on the table, waiting for Sho to be done getting dressed for the day.

Nino could hear Sho still puttering about in his room, but the kitchen table was empty. He remembered then that Ohno had been complaining about his early meeting today, something about doing press for his exhibition. Nino remembered this in regrettable detail because he’d been complaining first and Ohno had bettered his by having to get up even earlier. Perhaps while dreading that, Ohno had forgotten about his usual kitchen kindnesses.

Nino hesitated, remembering how he’d regretted overstepping last time. But his place was what he made it, and it didn’t seem like such a big deal, so he got the coffee mug and the vitamins. Sho was fussy about taking them but Ohno made such a point of reminding him that Nino figured there must be a health reason, though it seemed to be a minor thing. There weren’t any of the little pastries in the cabinet, but Nino saw there was a bagel left. He put it in the toaster with the backup plan of eating it himself if Sho didn’t want it.

He made a minute adjustment to the mug and vitamins, trying to get them in just the position Ohno seemed to prefer, and heard Sho coming down the hall. It sounded like he was on the phone.

Nino was glad his job didn’t involve being on the phone before 7am. He arranged himself in a slouch against the counter, his second cup of coffee at his lips.

“Yes, I know it’s early,” Sho said. He sounded fond and amused: definitely a talking-to-Ohno voice and not work-related after all. “No, I won’t be here when you get home, I’m sorry.”

Nino sipped his coffee to hide his smile.

“Hmm?” Sho was to the table now, phone cradled between his head and shoulder as he went into multi-tasking mode. “You forgot--what? But they’re right here, I’m looking at them.” One hand lingered in the air above the coffee mug.

Nino stilled and tried not to look guilty or embarrassed. Sho turned around and met his gaze, seeming very awake all of a sudden.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, still looking at Nino. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

After another moment, Sho ended the call. Nino’s cheeks were warm but he was determined not to make more of it than it was.

The problem was, he really did care about Sho to this sort of sappy extent, so he ended up shrugging apologetically and heading back to his room.

“Thanks for the bagel, too!” Sho called after him, and Nino wished he’d eaten the damn thing himself.

Within thirty seconds of closing his door, Nino had a text from Sho.

_Thanks for everything, actually. <3  
House meeting tonight?_

Nino didn’t have time to figure out why they were having a house meeting when they hadn’t bothered with one since the first day he’d moved in. He texted agreement and rushed out the door, sure that he’d somehow get weaseled into mentorship if he was late to the confrontation.

*

“I call this house meeting to order,” Sho said grandly. He was in fake jeans and a camouflage-printed shirt, and there was visible Cheeto dust on his fingers, but Nino still said, “Hear, hear!” with great enthusiasm.

On the couch with Sho, Ohno already looked half-asleep, but he’d had the longest day of any of them.

“I thought maybe we should do something more official to see if there are any issues about our living together. Rent or accommodations or annoying habits, anything you’d feel weird bringing up elsewhere. Nino?”

Since Sho seemed serious, Nino thought it over, twisting his legs under himself in the comfortable chair. “No, I don’t think I have anything.” He fidgeted for a second, then added, “Though since we haven’t had one of these things since the beginning, I’ll take the opportunity to be sentimental or whatever and say it’s nice to live with friends.” He wondered if that was too sappy, if a person with only friendly feelings would really say something like that unless they were Aiba, so he added, “Free sheets, cheap rent, and sometimes you feed me: that is the kind of friendship I like.”

Ohno blinked slowly, looking like he was thinking, and Sho said only, “Right.”

Nino worried he’d gone too far in the brusque direction, but before he could figure out how to fix it, Ohno was talking.

“Sho-chan snores.”

Sho did a double-take. “Where did that come from?!”

Ohno wasn’t done. “And Nino sometimes forgets when it’s his turn to clean the bath.”

“I do,” Nino said gravely. “I apologize.”

Sho folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t control mine, and I don’t think I’m even that loud. Nino, can you hear it from your room, too?”

Nino shook his head, wondering if he was supposed to believe that Ohno was saying he could hear the snoring from his separate room instead of the same bed.

Ohno sighed with satisfaction and settled further into the couch. “I contributed.”

“So we’re talking about issues, then,” Sho said, an evil gleam in his eye.

“I’ve got one,” Nino interrupted before he could stop himself.

Sho turned to him, courteously letting his own issue drop, and even Ohno seemed to pay attention temporarily.

“Oh-chan, the day we met,” Nino said, wishing he’d shut up but also glad he was finally going to ask. “I know this is childish, but I’ve been wondering. Why didn’t you like me?”

Ohno and Sho exchanged a glance. It didn’t seem like they were at all confused about what he was referring to, so Nino made himself sit there without babbling an excuse or apology until he could get an answer.

“Seemed like you might,” Ohno said slowly. “... Might make things complicated.”

Nino flushed, forgetting rationality in the stricken thought that something in his behavior at their interview had made his attraction to them humiliatingly obvious.

He’d probably regret letting instinct choose his words, later, but it was rare for something to hit on so many of his feelings at once, so he ended up speaking before he could really think it through. “Because I’m gay? I won’t make things complicated if you don’t.”

There was silence, then, and Nino wondered how many assumptions he’d made in the span of about thirty horrifying seconds.

“Nino,” Sho said at last, and he covered Ohno’s hand with his in clear possession. “Why would we care that you’re gay?”

Nino couldn’t speak. A tiny part of him had thought, despite himself, that the kiss he’d witnessed had been a hallucination, that Ohno and Sho weren’t _really_ together, not like that. But here it was at last.

Ohno put in, “And complicated’s not bad. It’s just kinda scary to… Nino?”

Nino was almost certainly making a weird expression. “Then if you don’t dislike me, we can continue being friends!” he said brightly.

“How could he think I disliked him?” Ohno whispered to Sho, but Sho’s eyes were still on Nino.

“Nino, as our friend, wouldn’t you use the living room for your gaming? Our TV is bigger, isn’t it?”

Nino nodded uncertainly, less at the invitation than at the undeniable truth that their TV was bigger. They were still holding hands like it came so naturally to them that they’d forgotten they were doing it.

Ohno looked at Sho, then at Nino. He adapted quickly when he wanted to. “And,” he said with some smugness, “we have a couch.”

His free hand patted the spot on the other side of him from Sho, horribly inviting.

“Well… I just don’t think it’ll work,” Nino said, wanting this excuse to see them even more but knowing it wasn’t good for his mental health. He still felt a little lost after his abrupt and probably completely unnecessary coming out, but he remembered a straw and clutched at it. “After all, I often game late at night, and you guys, uh, I give you space after ten, which is good, so…”

His eyes found their joined hands, and he swallowed hard. His mind was giving new meaning to the idea of them needing _space._

“But,” Ohno started stubbornly.

Sho interrupted. “Of course, that makes sense,” he said, smiling. “Next time, we’ll be more careful with our invitation.”

For a moment, all Nino could hear was his heart beating.

“And would you look at the time,” he said desperately. He was sure his grin was more of a grimace.

They let him go, but he heard Sho behind him as he left, saying scoldingly, “Now as for my issues with _you_ , old man, where to start.”

*

With his new job, Sho was home earlier: every night now he was off in time for dinner. Ohno had quit going to his cooking lessons, irritated by being told what to do, but he was determined to learn how to cook on his own.

He seemed to have a natural talent for it, despite his stubbornness. He had no experience, though, and often made too much. Several times a week he or Sho would knock on Nino’s door and ask him to eat with them.

After a while, they stopped using that excuse, and then Nino stopped waiting to be invited.

It was the first time he’d regularly had dinner with the same people almost every night since he’d been a child. It was strange. It felt nice. It was so comfortable that he began trying to convince himself that he might be getting over whichever of them he’d had feelings for, and soon they could simply be friends.

Nino got into helping Ohno with the cooking some nights, having been raised as a competent if unenthusiastic cook. As his contribution, Sho took over cleaning the common areas.

Maybe it was just being around them so consistently, or maybe he was projecting after his lack of control at the house meeting, but it felt to Nino like they’d started touching him more. The contact made him feel happy and edgy at once. As he’d been feeling wound up for months now, he decided this latter feeling was yet another sign that he was overdue to meet up with a sexual partner. When he didn’t have a significant other, he was indolent enough that he didn’t always make an effort to find someone until the need was too strong to ignore. However, he’d also gotten to a point in his life where it wasn’t actually difficult to get that need met, and enjoyably.

His body was telling him it was time to work off some of the frustration of the past half a year. He called up an old boyfriend, now a distant friend, and got himself an overnight date with no strings attached.

The night before they planned to meet, Nino let Sho and Ohno know at dinner that he wouldn’t be there for the meal the next night. Neither of them said much about it, though when he didn’t follow up with any sort of explanation, like that he was visiting family or friends, they looked like they wanted to ask.

Nino hadn’t planned to specify, but he decided it was only fair to tell them that he wouldn’t be home after, either.

Sho frowned, but Ohno said simply, “We can cook the hamburger when you’re back, then.” He used his chopsticks to take a tasty piece of meat out of their hotpot and put it on Nino’s rice.

It was unfair how easily his switch could be flipped with these two. Sho’s full lips, turned sulky and kissable with his frown; Ohno’s hands, tanned and capable and clever--Nino should be immune by now.

He told himself his body was lagging behind while his emotions were already on the way to recovery. He told himself a night with Ryuhei would help.

He was confident in his ability to maintain their friendship without letting any complications come to the surface, but by tomorrow, things would be a little less complicated. He was really looking forward to it.

*

The next day was a Saturday, and Ohno and Sho were home all day. Nino didn’t do anything differently than usual, but it was like just glancing at either of his housemates was enough to make him forget everything but how much he wanted them.

Or wanted to have sex, period, which was preferable and not at all impossible as a reason for his susceptibility. Sho and Ohno were the two people he saw every day. They were good-looking in general, and attractive to him both physically and otherwise, so it wasn’t weird that when he was in a sex-starved kind of mood he’d find them even more tempting.

To Nino, part of getting over it, as Jun had advised, was finding a way not to get a hard-on at the sight of Sho bent over in front of the fridge in ugly sweatpants, or when Ohno was cooking and he did a dorky little dance with his hips to whatever music Sho had put on. It was okay for him to look at them and think how wonderful they were, but he’d rather that thought didn’t lead to thoughts of kissing them, not least because thoughts of kissing them were taking up more and more of his time.

If he couldn’t get rid of those feelings, it wasn’t that he thought he couldn’t be friends with them. Nino was sure by now that being friends with them, as torturous as it could be, was worth every effort. But Nino didn’t have to sit passively and waste away in an endless wave of frustrated arousal, either. There were things he could do to help take the edge off and make it easier to get by.

Nino and Ryuhei had always been good together, even if it hadn’t worked out for them as a couple. Ryuhei was bigger, and sometimes Nino liked that, and he had a lot of fun in bed, which Nino always enjoyed in a person he was sleeping with.

It made him happy to think of Ryuhei’s smile, to know that soon he’d be hearing those awful puns again, and to imagine where the night would take them.

When he headed out for dinner that night, he felt buoyant and hopeful. He called out his goodbyes and went through his room and out the door.

About halfway to the restaurant, he realized that while his rail pass had been in his overnight bag, he’d managed to forget his wallet. It was half an hour at least to get back home since he’d taken the train, but he wasn’t close enough with Ryuhei anymore to pull the no-wallet trick on purpose. He especially didn’t want to do that when they were almost certainly going to be sleeping together.

He texted Ryuhei an apology and headed back to the house, resigning himself to at least an hour’s delay by doing so.

A new song started forming in his head as he rode the train back. He went in through his outer door humming it, then scrambled for paper and a pen to write down what he could before he lost it into the ether. By the time he looked around for his wallet, he had no memory of where it was. After ten minutes of searching in his room, he had a brief flash of taking it into the living room to impress Ohno with the expression he’d been making in his driver’s license picture.

Though it was around the time they usually ate dinner, he found Ohno on the couch, staring off into space.

“What’re you doing, old man?” Nino asked fondly.

“Um,” Ohno said, not turning around. “Watching TV?”

“But it isn’t even--”

It was looking at the television that alerted Nino to what was happening. For the very reason that it wasn’t turned on, it was a makeshift mirror of the living room, and in it Nino could see another figure on the couch--obviously Sho--stretched out with his head in Ohno’s lap.

Even from a distance and reflected poorly, Nino could tell that Ohno wasn’t fully clothed.

“I forgot my wallet,” he said, dragging his eyes back to Ohno.

That was a mistake. Ohno had twisted to look at him, and _oh_ , his expression, his flushed face and bright eyes and the way he was biting his lip like he was trying to hold something back. Suddenly Nino wanted desperately to know what the quiet, generally laidback Ohno sounded like in bed.

Now, specifically, he wanted to know how he sounded when Sho had his mouth on him, like he must’ve just seconds before.

Ohno said, “Do you have to go?”

Nino couldn’t believe Ohno would ask such a ridiculous question. What, was he supposed to sit down next to them and watch TV while they fucked?

“Yeah, I have a date.” He turned to see his wallet on the kitchen counter. “Well, bye then! Have--have fun,” he blurted out, and left.

*

Unsurprisingly, the date with Ryuhei went poorly. Nino would have to apologize later, when he could think more clearly, but for tonight all he could do was go home early.

He was more on edge than ever. On top of that, if his imagination when he was writing music was half as active as it was picturing Sho and Ohno having sex, he could be responsible for every song put out in Japan in the next year.

Locking his door with a feeling of defeat, he turned and stopped short at the sight of Sho sitting on his bed.

“I’m sorry,” Sho said, clearly flustered. “I was writing you a note.”

Nino shrugged casually. He was trying not to imagine walking over and sitting next to Sho, within touching distance, or just pushing him down onto the bed and climbing right on top of him. Maybe Ohno had done that earlier, though not, presumably, on Nino’s bed.

“Something important?”

Sho put down the pad of paper. “I’m going on a recruiting trip. I wondered if you’d take care of Satoshi-kun while I’m gone?”

Feeling more at ease, Nino snorted. “Does he need watering, like a plant?”

Sho smiled slightly. He stood up and walked toward Nino.

At first Nino refused to back away, because it wasn’t like he was _afraid_ , but as Sho drew nearer and nearer he couldn’t help it. He ended up with his back against the wall, eyes wide on Sho.

Sho just smiled again and put his hand on Nino’s shoulder.

“Not watering exactly, but he gets lonely, you know?”

He put a hand on Nino’s other shoulder and met his eyes. Nino couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“If you don’t mind…” Sho started, then bit his lip. “Only if you want to,” he tried again, then leaned in close, so close Nino could feel his shaky exhale.

Sho’s hands tightened on Nino’s shoulders. “Whenever he’s lonely, here’s what works the best.” And he leaned in to press his lips gently to Nino’s.

After a second, he pulled back, but he didn’t take his hands away. Nino felt warmed right down to his bones.

“Is that the only way?” he joked, his heart reeling.

“No,” Sho said seriously. “Here’s another one.”

He pulled Nino away from the wall and into his arms. Nino, despite his confusion, held on tightly. He struggled to breathe around the feeling of Sho, Sho all around him, holding him like he’d never let go.

“Do this if he needs it,” Sho murmured, and Nino thought he felt the barest brush of lips against his neck. “And tell him I’ll be home soon.”

Nino said inanely, “And then he won’t be lonely anymore,” just trying to prolong the contact for a few seconds more.

Sho pulled away, humor quirking his full mouth. “Not for me, anyway.”

Nino licked his lips and wrapped his arms around himself unconsciously. He felt like he was in a play or something, and he and Sho were acting out the lines someone else had written. At the same time, he felt like he’d never been quite as real in his life as he was standing there in his room, having kissed Sho and held him in his arms, with Ohno on both of their minds.

Sho was watching him carefully. He asked, “Is complicated bad?”

“Yes,” Nino said immediately, too wrung out to put it any more elegantly.

Sho snorted. “Then when I come back, let’s talk about ways to simplify things, hm?”

However long it took Nino to come back to his senses after that encounter, he finally took a look at the notepad Sho had left on his bed.

The top sheet said only, _I’ll be gone a week and a half. When I get back--_

For some reason, Nino thought Sho had been trying to figure out how to finish that sentence for a long time. He pictured Sho, sitting on his bed, considering what to write next.

Nino wished he could guess how the sentence was going to end.

*

Nino didn’t search Ohno out on the first day of Sho’s trip.

He should’ve at least taken a hard look at what he wanted, so that however Sho’s sentence would’ve been finished, whatever Sho and Ohno wanted from him, he’d be ready to decide what to do about it. Instead he hid from his feelings and gamed all day.

By eleven at night he was too hungry to go any longer, so he stumbled out to the kitchen, figuring curfew was void when one of his housemates was gone. He shook out his arms as he went. He was getting too old to sit in one position for hours, he thought regretfully.

Still stretching his sore body, he saw Ohno, asleep curled up in the living room armchair like a cat.

Without considering anything, Nino went over and crouched in front of the chair. He shook Ohno’s arm to wake him.

“Hey, old man. You won’t be able to move in the morning if you sleep like that!”

Ohno frowned, then peeked his eyes open reluctantly like he thought maybe Nino would be gone by the time he finished so that he could go back to sleep without budging.

Shit.

Nino got out, “Are you lonely?” but was already moving toward Ohno, so that by the time Ohno said, “Yes,” it was against Nino’s lips.

Somehow they ended up on the couch, and just like everything with Ohno, it was weird how it felt so right. They tucked themselves together lying down, bodies pressing together perfectly, and they made out for longer than Nino would’ve thought he’d find appealing. Nino loved kissing, sure, but too much of it by itself could make him impatient.

Already he felt like just kissing Ohno was something he could do forever and never tire of it.

Ohno was sleepy, greedy, prone to laughter. Nino couldn’t get enough of him--if Sho got to do this every day, maybe it was Sho he was jealous of after all.

But that thought only made him think of Sho and Ohno kissing, touching, laughing together in the bed Nino had never seen.

“Your bed,” Nino mumbled against Ohno’s cheek. Ohno went still under him, but Nino didn’t bother clarifying beyond asking, “What kind of bed do you have? You and Sho-kun.”

In the dim light, he could see Ohno smirk. “A big one,” he said. “I bought us fancy sheets, and it’s big enough for both of us. Big enough…” he trailed off, and his hands slid up under Nino’s shirt. “Big enough for--”

Nino kissed him to shut him up. Ohno didn’t protest, just skritched his fingertips along Nino’s bare skin and opened his mouth accommodatingly.

It felt like hours later when they somehow disentangled themselves. They sat side by side on the couch, though Ohno was already listing toward the armrest like he was going to fall asleep again.

Nino tried to remember why complicated was bad. Everything else was going right for him at present--he could keep things as they were and be contented. It was so much easier not to want something this much, and if he had a choice about having these feelings, he didn’t know which way it would go.

Still…

“When you get lonely tomorrow,” he said, his voice husky from being turned on for so long. “Come and find me.”

Ohno nodded. He tilted even further to the side, and Nino laughed.

“And go sleep in your bed already!”

But Ohno only lay down fully and closed his eyes. “Not without Sho-kun,” he said drowsily.

Nino’s amusement faded. He didn’t know what would happen when Sho came home. He didn’t know what he wanted, or what they wanted, or what was even possible.

But right then he was tired, and drunk on Ohno’s kisses, so he made himself smile even though Ohno wasn’t looking. He let himself mean it more than he should when he said, “Sleep well, Oh-chan.”

*

Nothing else was different, so Nino did his best not to think about what had changed. He and Ohno worked separately, but had a lot of their meals together. They missed Sho together and watched TV and plotted ways to get out of leaving the house for their jobs. Nino even met Ohno’s mom of the legendary tupperware meals when she came for a day visit. He got to hear her scold Ohno for not washing his towels enough, and they both helped her when she cooked dinner. Nino had never been as charmed by Ohno as in the moment he blushed when his mom praised his skill at chopping carrots.

It was a normal stretch of days, except that it passed so quickly, but Nino was sure that all he’d remember of it later was a blur of Ohno’s mouth, Ohno’s hands, that couch that Nino could hardly look at now without getting hard. He’d see it and remember Ohno there, Sho’s head in his lap, but in his mind he got to see more this time, got to see Sho’s tongue dragging teasingly along Ohno’s cock, and hear Ohno--

“What noise do you make?” Nino gasped out, pulling away from Ohno’s demanding mouth.

Ohno had caught him in the hallway, had pressed him against the wall and said he was lonely. Now here Nino was, panting and needy with a leg wrapped shamelessly around Ohno to make sure he wouldn’t leave.

“Hm?” Ohno asked. He took the opportunity to lay scorching kisses down Nino’s throat. “When?”

“When Sho-kun… the first moment he puts his mouth on you, what noise do you make?”

Ohno rested his chin on Nino’s shoulder and made a thinking noise. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “What noise will I make when you do it?”

Nino shoved him back against the opposite wall and kissed him fiercely, but it only made Ohno laugh and say teasingly, “What noise will you make with him?”

“Shut up,” Nino said, flustered, and tried to kiss him quiet. Ohno’s overly nimble fingers found his sides and tickled.

Nino yelped and jumped back. Ohno followed more slowly and wrapped his arms around him in a comforting hug.

Nino forced his body to go still, exhaling shakily as Ohno held him.

“It’s not life or death, Nino-chan,” Ohno mumbled softly. “No matter what, this is your home.”

Nino didn’t say anything. He couldn’t even bring himself to hug Ohno back, because there was no way it was this easy, there was no way it’d end up happily for all of them unless every little thing went right.

Ohno squeezed him tighter, but his voice sounded uncertain when he said, “This is your home… right?”

 _You’re my home. Both of you._ The words caught in Nino’s throat. He could leave the house behind without regrets, but the idea of not seeing Ohno and Sho everyday made him so afraid he couldn’t focus, couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

But the idea of making Ohno feel anxious also hurt, so he slid his arms around Ohno and squeezed tight, sighing obnoxiously, “I’m so glad you’re not lonely anymore, Oh-chan. Now I can get back to my game--!”

He was back against the wall and Ohno was kissing him, laughing, pressing against him like he didn’t have doubts no matter the complications. For a moment, for several endless moments, Nino let himself forget too.

*

Sometimes with how much Nino missed him it felt like Sho would never come home, but all too soon Nino’s time not having to think about things was up.

He’d probably be ashamed of it for the rest of his life, but when Sho got back, Nino wasn’t there.

He knew it was cowardly, he knew that if he trusted himself, trusted Sho and Ohno, he should be able to go with the flow like Ohno did, like Sho seemed to be able to do, too. But what they had, what they could have if they wanted, the idea of putting it all into words made him realize that he couldn’t yet.

He didn’t have the words. He’d been in denial, and then scared, and he’d refused to think about it. Sho coming home felt like an ultimatum, and Nino wasn’t ready because he hadn’t done the emotional work he should’ve.

He should admit to that and ask for time, he knew he should, but could he ask for time if they told him what they wanted? If it was what he suspected, what he hoped for, could he do anything but say yes? And then he worried that what he hoped for wasn’t what was coming anyway, that they might ask him for something temporary or purely physical, and what he’d say then, he couldn’t begin to guess.

So instead of being the grownup he should’ve been, Nino wrote a note for Ohno and Sho, then took the train to Chiba and threw himself on the mercy of Aiba’s parents.

He washed dishes and worked as a waiter in their restaurant for two days, and in return they fed him and let him sleep in Aiba’s old room. As he’d known they wouldn’t, they didn’t ask him any questions, and he was grateful for it.

Aiba found him there on the third day, on the restaurant’s break between lunch and dinner.

Apparently Ohno and Sho had gotten worried despite the note and called Nino’s emergency contact. Aiba had gone over to the house and promised them a full report about Nino.

“Or better,” he said, with a disturbing gleam in his eye, “I’ll bring you in person.”

Nino sniffed. “You could try.”

He hastily scooted around a table when Aiba started for him like he was going to throw him over his shoulder and carry him back to Tokyo.

“You don’t need to,” Nino yelped, holding a hand up to ward him off.

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so disappointed,” Nino laughed. “It’s just, I was about to go home anyway. Now we can ride the train together.”

“Like old times,” Aiba said, eyes going soft, and Nino let that pass without teasing him about it. Then Aiba blinked. “Home, you say?”

“I do live there,” Nino said evasively.

Aiba just looked at him for a moment before his entire face lit up. “Oh my god, you love them! Both of them? No wonder they looked so worried…”

“We’ll miss the train, you idiot.” Nino was sure his cheeks were with bright red with embarrassment.

Aiba was still working through it all. “But why did you run away?”

Nino shrugged. “I thought I had things to think about.”

Aiba tilted his head, trying to follow this. “But you didn’t?”

“Not really. Once I got here, it all seemed a lot less complicated.” This was true enough, but Nino had stayed a little longer to make sure of what was going on inside him. He was getting tired of running away from how he felt about things.

Aiba clasped his hands together and brought them up to his chest, seemingly unconscious of the gesture. He said with urgency, “Because? Please say it, please say it, oh my gosh Nino is in love--”

Nino cleared his throat loudly. “I will say it if you get my bag while I say thank you to your parents.”

A mutinous look appeared on Aiba’s face, though his hands were still held hopefully at his heart. Nino sighed.

“I want to get home, okay? Please?”

That got Aiba to nod, and Nino braced himself.

“As soon as I left,” he said, not meeting Aiba’s eyes, “I missed them. It made everything else seem--augh.”

He found himself wrapped in his best friend’s octopus-like arms, as he’d figured he would be when he said something that emotional to this sentimental ninny. “We have a deal, remember,” he said, giving Aiba a quick squeeze. “Let’s make the early train, okay?”

“Roger!” Aiba yelled in Nino’s ear, noticeably not letting go.

After a moment, he sniffled and said happily, “My best friend’s gonna have sex with two dudes.”

Nino groaned, settled in, and resigned himself to the later train.

*

After they picked his car up at the train station, Aiba dropped Nino off at home around dinner time. Nino had absolutely forbidden Aiba from saying anything mushy so there was only a wave as Aiba pulled around the corner and out of sight.

Nino took a deep breath. He took the feeling he’d had in Chiba, that things weren’t as complicated as he’d thought, and set it as his mindset going in the house. He didn’t want to miss Ohno and Sho again when it could be avoided.

It seemed like they wanted him with them in all kinds of ways, and Nino was going to go with it gratefully.

There was the sound of voices as he came into the house. He came through his room and to the kitchen, and there were Sho and Ohno.

Ohno was at the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious, while Sho was carrying a big stack of plates to the table. Nino came around the table, nearly tripping over a chair that was in a weird place, and stood in front of Sho.

“Put the plates down,” he said calmly.

Sho’s eyes were round. “You’re home!” he said, sounding relieved and pleased. He put down the stack of plates and opened his arms to Nino.

Nino grinned at him. “Welcome home, Sho-chan,” he said. He fisted his hands in Sho’s shirt and pulled him down to kiss the living daylights out of him.

Sho caught on quickly, wrapping those open arms around Nino and kissing him back so enthusiastically that Nino started to forget everything else.

He heard Ohno say hopefully, “I’m here, too,” but wasn’t quite done kissing Sho. He’d gotten a lot of kisses from Ohno while Sho had been away for his job, and the one kiss he’d had from Sho had been more of a teasing preview than anything else.

He kind of thought he’d just kiss Sho until he passed out, that’s how good it felt, but then there was a loud clearing of someone’s throat.

Nino took his mouth from Sho’s reluctantly and turned in his arms to scold Ohno, but Ohno shook his head mutely.

Confused, Nino turned further so he could see the living room, and immediately felt a sense of deja vu at the sight that confronted him.

He let out his breath with exasperation. “I should expect you everywhere but I admit I’m surprised. Good evening to you, the inevitable Matsujun.”

Jun stood up from the armchair, grinning and holding out a hand to the other person in the living room. She took it and came up off the couch to bow politely to Nino.

“Hello again, Ninomiya-san. I’m so glad to see you’ve figured everything out,” Jun said arrogantly. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Karina.”

She had pretty hair and a quietly saucy smile that made Nino feel like he knew her already. He stepped out of Sho’s loose grasp and came around the counter and into the living room, where he took her offered hand and kissed it grandly.

He smiled suavely and said, “I have never met your husband in my life.”

Jun spluttered, but Karina replied dryly, “Neither have I.” They smiled at each other in mutual accord.

Nino turned to Jun and scowled. “I’m here trying to have a beautiful reunion with my housemates and here you are with your eyebrows again!” He noticed that Jun was glaring at the way he hadn’t let go of Karina’s hand, so he tucked it into the crook his elbow and said, “Madam, I invite you to stroll with me to the kitchen.”

She acquiesced with grace and a glint in her eyes, and they sauntered together to the kitchen as Jun complained behind them.

“You, of course, are entirely welcome,” he said to Karina. “Um, would you be shocked--I assume you saw me kissing Sho-chan…?”

“I won’t be shocked if you kiss Ohno-san, too,” she assured him, answering the question he hadn’t quite asked. “Mattsun told me about the situation here before we came, and I find it very enterprising.”

Nino laughed. “Right? Okay, then I’m going to have you seat yourself while I let Oh-chan kiss me. I mean, look at that face.”

Karina looked, and Ohno, on cue, made a hangdog expression. She laughed and sat at the table while Nino took the few steps left to Ohno and gave him a smacking kiss on the mouth.

“Sho-kun’s was longer,” Ohno complained afterwards.

Sho said chidingly, “Sho-chan was away for ages with no one but frighteningly ambitious high school kids and their even more frightening parents to talk to. You’ve had him more than a week, and I’ve been the picture of neglect.”

“That’s not true,” Ohno objected. “Last night we--”

“Now, children,” Nino interrupted with a soothing tone. “We don’t want to scare away our lovely guest. Or Jun-kun, I guess.”

Jun, picking his own seat in the kitchen, rolled his eyes. Karina said levelly, “Oh no, do continue. We’ve only been married a year, so we could use the tips.”

Her deadpan expression didn’t break even as the three who didn’t know her squinted at her dubiously. Jun’s face was red, but the look in his eye as he took her hand on top of the table was adoring.

The doorbell rang.

“Oh good,” Sho said. “Is dinner ready, Satoshi-kun?”

Nino left them to finish setting the table (he should’ve noticed all the chairs, even if he hadn’t noticed how many plates Sho had been carrying) and went to the door. He looked at the screen and sighed with resignation. He wasn’t even all that surprised.

When he opened the door, it was an expression of great (false) cheer. “Why, Aiba-shi! Did you forget something when you dropped by earlier? Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you and you can go away again.”

Unfazed, Aiba beamed at him. “They invited us to dinner if I brought you back! I thought you’d like to be surprised. Is Matsujun here already?” After a moment, like the barest afterthought, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Oh, and I brought Kazama-kun.”

Kazama came huffing up to the door, looking put-out. “He left me in a cafe for hours! Then he made me park the car and walk all the way back here--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aiba said distractedly. “Anyway, Sakurai-san said I could bring someone, and Kazuna-chan has an important surgery to do tonight, so Kazama was the best I could do.”

“I completely understand,” Nino said with sympathy, ignoring Kazama’s weary protests. “Come in, if someone has unwisely invited you. At least the two of you bring down the average attractiveness of the guests--have you met Jun-kun’s wife, Aiba-chan? The two of them together are astonishing.”

“Thanks,” Karina said behind him. He spun, startled by her sudden appearance, and she smiled at him. It was a very sweet smile, but he could sense she was laughing at him.

He liked that in a person. “Let’s get out of here, Karina-chan,” he said on a cheeky impulse, and Jun yelled from the kitchen, “Stop trying to seduce my wife!”

Not to be outdone, Ohno yelled too. “Stop trying to seduce my Nino!”

“Our Nino,” Sho corrected loudly.

“I have too many friends,” Nino sighed. “Now I’ll never escape.”

Aiba patted his arm. “It’s just that you’re a delightful human being,” he said, and tried to wink.

“You’re closing me in the door,” Kazama said. Aiba flapped his fingers at him disparagingly.

“This is a lot of people to fit at that table,” Karina murmured beside Nino. He looked at her more closely. She actually seemed a bit nervous, under her natural coolness.

He took her arm again gallantly, which made her chuckle. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly, as they followed the much louder Aiba and Kazama back to the kitchen. “You’ll never meet a group of nicer people than the idiots gathered here tonight.”

It was true.

*

By the time everyone was going home, Nino’s energy was flagging. So much talking and eating and laughing; so many stories and reasons to smile. And of course, there was the knowledge that he’d committed himself internally to whatever this was with Sho and Ohno, if they’d have him, which was both wonderful and terrifying.

It certainly seemed like they were going to have him, based not only on the homecoming kisses but their behavior with him during dinner. It was in the way Sho’s eyes crinkled around the edges when Nino said something funny, and the way Ohno caught Nino’s glance every time there was something he wanted Ohno to play along with. He felt it in Ohno’s knee bumping his under the table, and the affectionate touch on his back when Sho passed behind him to get seconds.

It had been an evening to remember, all things considered.

Of course, it wasn’t over.

Nino went to use the toilet, picking the one in the hallway for the novelty of it, while Sho and Aiba chatted in the living room. Jun and Karina had left already, but Aiba had sent Kazama to get the car. Ohno’d been talking with his mom on the phone since Jun and Karina went home.

It had been comfortable like that all night, like none of them had to be polite even though half of them didn’t know the other half. At the same time, Nino enjoyed how Sho and Ohno had dressed up, just a bit, for the occasion. Sho’s crisp button-down shirt, Ohno’s soft sweater, and both of them in close-fitting slacks… Nino wasn’t going to complain about any of it.

When he was done washing his hands, he came out into the hallway, and there Ohno was, waiting for him. Suddenly it was like nothing had changed--Nino’s mind was filled with more than a week of kissing, a great deal of which had occurred in this very spot.

Then Ohno was there in his space, suddenly kissing him breathless. He backed Nino against the wall and pushed in close as he reminded Nino just how much he loved this, how right it felt.

“It’s just us now,” Sho said behind them, and Ohno bit lightly at Nino’s lower lip, making him gasp.

Ohno kissed him and kissed him like he wasn’t ever going to stop. He took Nino’s hands in his and slid them up the wall slowly until they were over his head. Nino licked into Ohno’s mouth and wished Sho would touch him already.

There was a moment’s respite before Ohno said smugly, “We’re gonna keep you.”

Nino couldn’t catch his breath enough for a comeback, and anyway he didn’t understand why Ohno had stopped kissing him. He twined his fingers with Ohno’s, over his head and against the wall, and Ohno’s eyes seemed to darken as he leaned in again.

“No, no,” came Sho’s deep voice. “That’s not the right way to put it at all.”

His face appeared over Ohno’s shoulder, all amused smile and intent eyes, and Ohno paused, waiting. Nino couldn’t look away from Sho’s expression.

“I think what we should do is ask Nino to stay.”

Sho’s hands slid up Ohno’s arms, making him shiver, and settled gently around his wrists. Nino glanced up and swallowed hard at the sight of Sho’s pale, elegant hands against the fishing tan of Ohno’s wrists.

Obligingly, Ohno released Nino’s hands and stepped back, into Sho’s casual embrace. Now they were both looking at him. Nino’s heart was pounding.

For a moment, all they did was look at him, all warmth and expectation, and he wanted to say the words for what he was feeling, but he didn’t think he needed to. Not out loud, at least, or not right now.

So after an overwhelmed minute he pulled himself together, sniffed like he was unimpressed with their handle on the situation, and said, “You know, you have to ask me, first, if you want me to answer.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Ohno said slowly.

Sho didn’t falter. “Nino, will you stay? With us?”

Nino breathed for a second. Then he reached out and closed one hand in Sho’s shirt, one in Ohno’s sweater, and pulled them in.

Ohno’s mouth found Nino’s neck, and Sho’s mouth met Nino’s, and it was all Nino could do to hold on and try to show them this way how much he wanted them, how much he _cared_ about them. He felt them telling him things, too, from their insistent kisses to the way Ohno’s hands had found their way under Nino’s shirt to his skin and how Sho’s hands were cradling Nino’s jaw like he was someone precious.

After a while, he had even more tangible evidence that they wanted him, and, for the first time in an age of frustration, Nino didn’t have to hide his arousal, either. It was starting to get frantic, and Nino was thinking about suggesting a change of venue.

On the other hand, the idea of Ohno and Sho rubbing themselves off against him in the hallway because they couldn’t wait any longer, that held a great deal of appeal for Nino. He was gloriously smug in the knowledge that he was going to see both of them naked soon, if not tonight, going to get to touch them in all sorts of ways, so maybe a frantic coming together in the hall was a perfect first time.

Then Ohno drove all attempts at rational planning out of Nino’s head by saying breathlessly, “Nino, can I get you off?”

Nino accidentally bit Sho’s lip at hearing Ohno say that to him, then soothed it with his tongue. That gave him a moment to regain control so he could do something other than beg in response to Ohno’s question.

He smirked as he looked into Ohno’s eyes. “I don’t know, Oh-chan. Can you?”

Sho chuckled. “I wouldn’t bet against him, Nino. He’s _very_ good with his hands.”

Nino flushed, imagining all sorts of things, feeling like he’d done nothing _but_ imagine all sorts of things about Ohno’s hands since that fateful interview for the room what felt like forever ago.

The thoughts, the anticipation, the steady, focused look in Ohno’s eyes, everything made Nino tremble for a second, pinned against the wall by both of them. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

He brushed the stray lock of hair off Ohno’s forehead, making him blink and try to refocus, then smiled at him.

“Go for it, then.”

Ohno’s gaze shot back to Nino’s face. The next instant, one of the hands under Nino’s shirt slid down with sure deftness right into Nino’s jeans.

Nino gasped, hips rocking forward instinctively. Sho huffed a small laugh and carefully undid Nino’s fastenings until there was a little more room to work, and Ohno took him in hand. He leaned in to kiss Nino’s neck again, too, his teeth finding every spot that made Nino shudder, and Sho kissed his way to Nino’s ear and the sensitive place underneath, murmuring encouragement against Nino’s skin.

Nino’s knees went weak well before they were done with him. He was panting, squirming, this close to begging, and upright only because Sho had a shoulder under his and an arm tight around his waist. Sho was kissing his mouth, his neck, biting his jaw, whispering wicked things into his ear, and Ohno, oh god, Ohno with his talented hands, that look of pure concentration as he bit his lip and focused entirely on driving Nino completely over the edge as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

“Gonna keep you,” Ohno muttered, and yanked at the neck of Nino’s shirt so he could nip at his collarbone. This time Sho didn’t correct him, just tilted Nino’s chin up and took his mouth in silent agreement. Nino couldn’t manage words anyway, could only hold on to Sho’s shoulder, Ohno’s back, as they made him feel so good, so loved, so--

He moaned into Sho’s mouth, fingers scratching Ohno’s back through his soft sweater, and came all over Ohno’s hand. Ohno made a surprised noise that Nino wanted to hear on repeat. He worked Nino through it as Sho continued to kiss him, and then, at last, Sho turned and kissed Ohno instead.

It felt unfair to Nino, somehow, to see them kissing so close for the first time when he’d already come, but he hoped they’d never stop.

Sho did stop, eventually, when Ohno wiped his dirty hand on his shirt.

“Tomorrow’s laundry day,” Ohno said consolingly.

Sho didn’t seem upset. He turned his gaze to Nino, still propping him up. “Can you stand on your own, or should we put you down?” he asked politely, though his voice was raspy and low in a way that made Nino’s nerves tingle.

“I can stand,” he said, which was hopefully true.

“Perfect,” Sho said approvingly, and disengaged himself carefully. “Satoshi told me something about while I was gone, did you know, Nino?”

Nino shook his head, trying to read the mischievous look in Sho’s eyes. He still wasn’t prepared when Sho pushed Ohno against the wall beside Nino and dropped to his knees in front of him.

“Something,” Sho mused, looking up at Ohno’s surprised face. “What was it?” He worked on Ohno’s slacks while he pretended to think it over.

But Nino had already remembered. “The noise,” he said, pulse thudding through him as Sho carefully pulled down Ohno’s underwear. “The noise when you--”

Sho licked slowly up Ohno’s cock, holding it steady with one hand.

Nino would never forget the sound Ohno made then. It was just as beautiful as Nino had expected, and he found that his legs might not support him after all.

But Ohno was there, reaching out to Nino and pulling him in. He clutched at him as his knees went weak in turn, and every sound he made was music to Nino’s ears.

Ohno’s fingers found Sho’s head, fingers tangling in his hair as he watched his dick disappear between Sho’s kiss-swollen lips, and after a while Nino hesitantly slid his own fingers in to join. He petted Sho as he watched him suck Ohno off with that talented mouth, the sight so much a gift that Nino was already considering writing an appropriately inappropriate thank you card later.

Sho seemed like he was lost to everything but Ohno, but when Nino gave a slight tug on his silky brown hair, Sho’s eyes shot up, his gaze meeting Nino’s.

His mouth was full of Ohno’s cock, he could probably barely breathe, but his eyes on Nino were anything but disoriented. He held Nino’s look with heat that Nino could feel down to his toes, curling against the carpet, a blistering awareness that let Nino know Sho had felt him there the whole time he’d been blowing Ohno, that he’d never forgotten Nino was watching. That he liked it.

Ohno didn’t last very long either, and after they’d collapsed to the floor he and Nino took turns jerking Sho off, one on either side of him. Sho was the fastest of all, but then, he’d been the most patient, too. Sho seemed to fit perfectly in Nino’s hand, and how he felt got under Nino’s skin and made him want to do it from the beginning next time, feel the way Sho filled Nino’s hand as Nino worked him over.

It was good, overwhelmingly good, to hear Sho groan, see him shudder, and feel the way his fingers tightened around Nino’s forearm as he came under Ohno’s hand. Nino liked seeing Sho mussed like this, sweaty and imperfect, and he had to kiss Sho for a long time as he came down.

Afterwards Nino sprawled bonelessly in the all-too-narrow hallway, half his limbs over Sho and the other half pressed against the wall. He heard Ohno apologizing for wiping his hand on Sho’s shirt again, and smiled.

“I knew I didn’t need to worry,” he said, mostly to himself, fucked out and obscenely happy.

“Hm?” Sho said absently, sounding like he was in exactly the same state.

Nino considered deflecting, but that was an instinct he was going to start ignoring with Ohno and Sho. “While you were gone, I was a little disappointed, ‘cause from what Oh-chan said it didn’t sound like either of you’d be much into fucking me. But I have to say, I am not in the least disappointed right now. Actually,” he said, lips curling in satisfaction, “I can’t imagine feeling anything but good ever again. After I’ve slept twelve hours or so, let’s do all of that again. Maybe in a bed...”

There was a weighty pause. “You were disappointed, you said,” Sho said at last. “That’s something you particularly like?”

Nino shrugged. He hadn’t actually been that worried about it, since he’d suspected, and rightly, that any kind of sex with Sho and Ohno would be deeply rewarding, but having someone fuck him was something he’d always favored. He’d asked Ohno who usually topped, half in words and half implication, with a suggestive grope as punctuation. When Ohno had said neither of them were that into it, it had been disappointing, sure, but in no way a dealbreaker.

“Oh-chan,” Sho said chidingly, and Ohno gave a little laugh.

“Oh my god,” he said sleepily. “We’re gonna fuck you so much, Nino-chan.”

“Ehh?” Nino asked, propping up on an elbow so he could look at them properly. Part of his mind took the moment to appreciate that Ohno hadn’t bothered to tuck himself all the way back into his clothes. “But--”

“I’m sure what Satoshi meant to say was that neither of us really likes being on that end of things, though we enjoy it sometimes if we have the patience to take our time. However, both of us like being on top, Nino; I’m sorry you were led to believe otherwise.”

Nino snickered, looking down at Sho’s serious face. He was sure that tomorrow he would have a _lot_ of thoughts about this new information, but right then it didn’t seem like such a big deal after everything that had already happened. “I accept your apology for your great misdeeds, Sho-san.”

Ohno just looked pleased. “Gonna fuck you every day,” he mumbled, and Sho turned to flick him on the cheek, grumbling, “You need to be more careful with your words, Satoshi-kun.” Even so, he leaned over and gave Ohno a quick kiss right where he’d flicked him.

Nino, overwhelmed with affection for both of them, climbed over Sho and wedged himself down into the tiny gap between their bodies, sighing contentedly. His eyes were closed but he could feel them turn toward him and curl around him from either side.

“Nino,” Sho whispered. “Now I really want to grab your butt.”

Ohno gave a little chuff of laughter, and Nino said magnanimously, “You may.”

A moment later, Sho’s hand wormed its way under Nino’s body and took a firm handful, and Ohno said, “Oh, me too. Can I?”

“I wouldn’t want to deny you such pleasure,” Nino said, all charity, and then Ohno was groping him as well.

For a moment more Nino thought of smart remarks he could make, but then having them so close, touching him like that, seeped into his consciousness and made him feel like he was going to melt right into the floor. He was tired, his body incapable of much more, but Sho was nuzzling his neck, his fingers fanning out appreciatively, and Ohno kept squeezing him and making a happy noise in the back of his throat at the feel.

They were going to keep him. It was sinking in for Nino that this was real, and, if not definitely forever, something they all wanted to continue as long as it could. The reality, without a doubt, was better than his guilty fantasies.

“I wish someone were here to take a picture,” he said, a little surprised by how hoarse his voice came out. They really were touching him quite a lot, and his body was wishing he could recover then and there. “We could use it as a greeting card.”

Sho nodded against his neck. “We could put a mosaic over Ohno’s crotch, no problem.”

“Huh?” Ohno said, then: “Oh!”

“Don’t you dare move, Oh-chan,” Nino said swiftly.

Sho said apologetically, “Actually, I need to move, too. This makes my wrist hurt.”

Ohno maneuvered his way to belated decency as Sho extracted his hand and said coaxingly, “You could turn over, Nino.”

“Or we could go to our bed,” Ohno said, coming back to snuggle up close to Nino. “The floor is hard, you know.”

“I know, old man,” Nino said fondly. “Um, I don’t think I can do anything else tonight, though. I really need to get some sleep.”

He felt Sho slide an arm over his stomach, and then Ohno did, too.

Sho said hesitantly, “You could sleep with us?” His breath was warm against Nino’s skin.

“Did I mention our fancy sheets,” Ohno said, sounding more than half-asleep already.

Nino sighed happily, then thought of something. “Hey, I didn’t get to touch your butts at _all._ ”

“You should touch Satoshi-kun’s butt right now,” Sho suggested. “I think it’s got healing powers.”

“I’ve seen your butt in those gray sweatpants, Sho-chan,” Nino said stubbornly, remembering just how well Sho filled that particular pair out. “It’s both your butts or nothing.”

After a moment, he said more seriously, “Also, I would be honored to sleep in your bed.”

“Honored,” Ohno laughed.

“I mean, I hear you have fancy sheets,” Nino teased back, and Sho chortled endearingly.

“Let’s get ready for bed, then. Who feels like they can stand up?”

Both Ohno and Nino pointed in silence at Sho, but in the end, it was Nino who stood up first, explaining that he wanted to go to his room to get pajamas and brush his teeth.

He was so tired by the time he was changed and ready that his first sight of Sho and Ohno’s room didn’t really filter into his mind, but he _was_ impressed by the enormous bed. 

Nino climbed in without ceremony, enjoying the feel of the expensive sheets and making sure to snag the spot in the middle.

He was almost asleep by the time they joined him, but he woke up some when Ohno kissed his cheek and Sho whispered goodnight.

“Wait,” Nino said, trying to force his eyes all the way open.

“You can touch our butts tomorrow,” Sho said affectionately, and Nino scowled.

The last thing he remembered was both of them crowding close, somehow comforting instead of claustrophobic.

Nino stayed.

*

When Nino woke up the next morning, he didn’t immediately know where he was, but the people sleeping on either side of him were an excellent reminder.

He shifted slightly, trying to remember if he had anything to do that day.

“It’s Sunday,” Sho said beside him, voice slurring with sleep. The way Nino’s work was set up the day of the week didn’t much matter, but he nodded thanks. He thought he was free anyway.

Sho rolled toward him and stole half of Nino’s pillow. His chin pressed into Nino’s shoulder, and one hand came to rest over Nino’s chest.

“Ah, it’s Sunday. Nothing to do but touch each other’s butts,” Sho mused, and Nino was startled into a happy laugh.

“Gotta do laundry,” Ohno said sleepily, scooting in to tuck himself against Nino’s other side. His hand came to rest on top of Sho’s as if by accident. “And wash the dishes.”

“Jun-kun washed them,” Nino said, chuckling. “And he got Kazama-kun to dry them, so laundry’s it.”

“I like doing laundry,” Ohno sighed contentedly, and Sho and Nino said together, “We know.”

Ohno didn’t seem to notice. “So nice to just sit there. Like fishing. This year I’m gonna catch a giant tuna.” His words trailed off, and next to Nino Sho was shaking a bit with laughter.

A while later, Sho asked, “Sleep some more?” and Nino nodded. He turned and pressed his lips to Sho’s forehead, tempted again by sappy words, but Ohno was probably asleep and the words were really for both of them.

As Nino drifted off again, a melody started to take shape in his mind. Maybe, he thought dreamily, he’d write his words into a song. He had a lot he wanted to tell them, after all, and requited love was surely the most inspiring muse.

*

Things settled into a new kind of routine, though it took some time to take shape.

Nino kept his room, but he slept in with Sho and Ohno almost every night. He used his room for work, because he needed to be alone for that, and for gaming, despite their invitation to use the living room TV, because he liked that when he needed to take a break and move around he could do that by seeking out his housemates. Sometimes he left his door open while gaming, these days, to say that non-interrupting company would be welcome. Ohno in particular liked to nap on Nino’s bed while Nino gamed. Nino got to see Ohno’s room, too, which didn’t even bother to pretend by having a bed and was completely an art studio. On top of Nino’s busy life as a songwriter, he was putting time aside here and there to work on the song he was writing for these two people he loved, with whom he was _in_ love, and fiddling with the lyrics was helping him be more comfortable with the idea of simply saying the words someday. He felt them everyday, even on the hard days, and made sure he showed his love through actions as often as possible.

Ohno’s cooking got even better, but he started to find dishes he liked so much that they were all he wanted to cook, and it took a lot of effort now to convince him to branch out. His exhibition, on the other hand, was an unmitigated success. Nino dug out the one suit he still owned from his time as a corporate stooge, and he and Sho went together, flowers in hand. Ohno had always wiggled out of showing Nino any of his art, which made it all the more moving to see so much of it all at once, and displayed in a fancy art gallery at that. It wasn’t moving because of the setting, though, it was moving because what Ohno said with his art was meaningful to Nino, and he said it beautifully. Instead of telling Ohno this, Nino complained that there wasn’t any art of him, and Ohno replied smoothly that next time he’d include a portrait of Nino’s butt.

Sho had a lot less to do at his job during the six weeks students had off in the late summer. Instead of creating more work for himself, as he might have before he lost his news producing job, he took some time off and went with Ohno and Nino on vacation to Okinawa. After the first day of relentlessly scheduled activities, he admitted it was better if he did his sightseeing alone and met up with them at the end of the day for dinner. Ohno, on the other hand, only wanted to fish, so Nino ended up playing video games in the hotel room for most of the trip. As he hated sand, boats, and being out in too much sun, it was exactly the kind of vacation he liked. He and Sho also enjoyed making sure that every inch of Ohno was covered with sunscreen before he stepped out the door. Back at home, Ohno and Nino made sure to put out Sho’s mug and vitamins every night, though they also relished snuggling in bed while Sho complained about having to get up in the morning.

Aiba was a frequent guest, and sometimes Kazama, and Kazuna when she could get away from the hospital. Jun and Karina became close with all of them--their first real friends in Tokyo--and when they found out they were expecting a baby, the celebration was at Nino’s house. Jun had long since stopped needing any input from Nino about his job, but they were in steady correspondence anyway. Nino liked that Jun was careful with his words, and kind, and practical enough that his advice was always worth listening to. He came to feel that Jun relied on him in return, which made Nino feel warm. Aiba, for all his airheadedness, rarely needed help, and Nino found himself doing things like going with Jun to pick out a gift for Karina’s birthday and helping him plan how to make his case at the company for a higher salary. At long last, Aiba wheedled Nino onto his grasslot baseball team, and to their surprise Jun asked if he could join as well. During this period, Karina decided she was going to try to make all the baby clothes herself, which lasted about a week, but it was long enough for Ohno to get hooked instead. At least while their kid was a baby, it looked like all the clothes would be Ohno originals. Nino contributed by sending Karina texts with the names of famous people who’d been very successful in their lives, all of whose names contained _Kazu._

Things weren’t always easy for Nino, Ohno, and Sho, not with such an unconventional relationship. It helped that, other than fishing or work trips, they were largely homebodies, and also that very, very few people were going to look at three men in public and assume romance. Some of their family members knew about them to some extent, and some probably never would. They had enough good friends to make up the difference.

As for the complications within the actual romance, there were surprisingly few. They were on the same page when it came to being careful to keep things candid, equitable, and considerate, and affection was never in short supply. Sometimes Nino felt insecure about being with them when they’d been a couple for so long, but he made himself communicate that, and they listened without judging. When it came down to it, there was never a time when he worried that they didn’t love him, and he did his best to make sure they felt the same.

*

One day in autumn, Ohno made muffins. This was notable because Ohno didn’t bake often, and also because Sho and Nino liked sweet, unfussy things like muffins, especially when they had blueberries in them.

It was therefore not all that surprising when they ended up sitting around the kitchen table after dinner, all of them looking covetously at the last blueberry muffin on the plate between them.

“I made them,” Ohno pointed out. “And I finished a painting this morning, so I deserve it.”

“I forgot to eat lunch today because a graduate student came and wept in my office,” Sho said. He folded his arms over his chest. “Also, I bought the blueberries at the store. I deserve it.”

Nino wasn’t about to bested by such weak arguments.

“I am wasting away,” he started, then giggled helplessly when Sho reached over to poke him in the belly. He changed tactics as if it had been his plan all along. “I am wasting away because I spent so long, so agonizingly long pining for two people who took their damn time falling in love with me. With _me_ , as lovable a person as you’ll ever meet, who also loves blueberry muffins and deserves happiness!”

They stared at him, and he smiled triumphantly at them, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back into his chair like the argument and muffin were won.

“I object,” Sho said, a solemn expression on his face. Ohno nodded agreement.

Nino shrugged. “My argument is unassailable. The muffin is mine.”

Ohno thought for several seconds, face screwed up with the difficulty of it. Finally he said, “A history lesson,” and gestured at Sho to follow up.

Nino expected Sho to laugh, but Sho just clasped his hands together ponderously and began.

“I, Sakurai Sho, got together with one Ohno Satoshi-san, seated across the table, while I was in college and he was in art school.”

Nino had heard this one and might have interrupted if he weren’t always greedy for Sho and Ohno stories, especially from before he’d met them.

“Said Ohno-san and I broke up briefly in our mid-twenties.”

Nino whispered as if to himself, “Mid-twenties breakups don’t get you the last muffin.”

Sho ignored this. “When we reunited, we decided we needed a change. Thus we had many serious discussions, resulting in the decision to have an open relationship.”

Nino perked up. “Wait, I haven’t heard about this part.”

“We had an open relationship for several years,” Sho said, gaze sliding to Ohno. “With great success.”

Ohno assumed an expression of lecherous reminiscence, making Sho break character long enough to grin at him.

“But?” Nino asked, hearing it coming.

Sho snapped back to his staid lecturing. “However,” he stressed, and Ohno chuckled. “We ended up deciding that from then on, at least for the foreseeable future, we wanted it to be only the two of us. While we enjoyed sexual relations with others, neither of us had made an emotional connection elsewhere, and it became less satisfying to, um, to fornicate with anyone else.”

Ohno opened his mouth. Nino said kindly, “It means fuck.”

“Ahh.”

“This was perhaps a year before we decided to rent out our third bedroom,” Sho continued, unfazed. “And in all that time, we didn’t regret the decision.”

Nino tried not to frown. “So the muffin,” he started. Sho shook his head reprovingly.

“The history lesson isn’t over,” Ohno said, as if he’d been contributing equally to the discussion.

Sho allowed it, though he pressed his lips together in a clear attempt not to smile.

“After we placed the advertisement online, we set up an interview with one Ninomiya Kazunari-san. During the interview, we both thought he’d be an excellent housemate, but by tacit agreement, we didn’t offer the room to him afterwards.”

“And there Ninomiya’s emotional turmoil begins,” Nino said brightly, and reached for the muffin.

Ohno smacked his hand away.

“We didn’t offer the room to him at once,” Sho chided, “because we had some ethical questions to discuss, as well as relationship quandaries.”

“‘Cause we wanted you,” Ohno said, looking with some heat at Nino. “We could already tell.”

Nino caught his breath. “Wait, what?”

“Was it just, for us to offer the room to someone with whom we wanted to fornicate?” Sho mused aloud. “To someone we felt drawn to emotionally as well?”

Nino pulled his hand away from the plate, staring between the two of them.

“Remember, we weren’t in an open relationship anymore,” Sho said. He lost some of his affectation as he turned to look back at Nino. “But meeting you, it raised a lot of questions.”

“We talked about it,” Ohno said, distracted by scratching delicately at his nose.

“And we decided to offer you the room, no strings attached. But we also decided to open our relationship up again in case our premonition was correct.”

Ohno smiled. “Just with you, though. If you wanted us.”

“But you didn’t…”

Sho shrugged. He’d forgotten the history lesson act completely by now. “From one meeting, we suspected potential complications, _good_ complications, but it’s not like we knew for sure. And we didn’t know anything about how you felt, not for ages.”

“Plus you’re skittish,” Ohno said.

“I am not,” Nino protested.

“Everything we did either made you back off or run away,” Sho laughed. “So you see, we might not have been able to predict the future, but just meeting you once changed our whole relationship. Ever since then, we were waiting on you.”

Ohno nodded.

Nino tried to process this. In the end, all he could do was reach out.

He took the muffin as Sho and Ohno watched. Then he broke it in half and put a part in front of each of them.

“Fine,” he said, as if he were irritated, when really he wanted to climb into one of their laps and drag the other in for a kiss. “Take the damn muffin.”

Ohno mumbled, “I’ve changed my mind,” and pushed his half of the muffin over to Nino.

Sho did the same.

“After all,” he said, gaze so full of warmth that Nino felt weak, “we might have been waiting, but at least we didn’t have to wait alone.”

Nino stood abruptly. “I object,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

Ohno asked, “Ooh, about what?”

“Time for a Ninomiya history lesson?” Sho said, eyes twinkling.

“I was made certain promises, concerning which there has been a lot of slacking,” Nino said snootily. “Take now, for example. If you look at the clock, it’s nearing eight in the evening, yet no one has fucked me at all today.”

Ohno’s eyes lit up. “You mean _fornicate_ you.”

“No,” Sho whispered, “you have to say--”

“Exactly,” Nino declared. Sho subsided.

“It really was a long day at work,” he said after a beat, then grinned up at Nino. “Sustenance might be required.”

He plucked his former half of the muffin off the table and put it in his mouth.

Nino gaped, then he and Ohno scrambled without dignity for the other half.

Ohno won.

The two of them still had muffin in their mouths as they took Nino’s hands and pulled him toward the hallway.

“A shower,” Sho said, losing some crumbs in the process. “Let’s do that first.”

Ohno swallowed. “There’s no time,” he said, making it sound like they were on an urgent mission with the clock running out.

Playing along, Nino threatened, “I might not make it--I didn’t get any muffin at all.”

“Oh no,” Sho muttered, then made Nino squawk by scooping him up clumsily and trying to walk. “Satoshi-kun, help, he’s fading fast.”

Ohno, laughing soundlessly, slid his arms under Nino’s knees and shoulders from the other side, and they began a precarious shuffle to the bedroom.

Nino was hanging like a sack of potatoes and said piteously, “Not even a single blueberry was left. By the way, I love you.”

They dropped him.

“Dammit, Nino,” Sho growled. “Now we have to fornicate you in the hallway.”

Ohno nodded, eyes already glazing.

“Wait,” Nino said, leaving off rubbing his aching back. “Wait, let’s get to a bed--”

“Our love waits for no bed,” Ohno intoned, and Sho knelt and reached for Nino.

Nino rolled away, laughing, and made a break for the bedroom.

“I love you,” he yelled, evading Ohno’s grasp at the doorway. “I love you _both_.”

He jumped into the bed and sprawled out, closing his eyes like he’d been waiting on them for hours.

Then they were there, tugging at his clothes, pressing kisses to his skin, telling him how much they loved him, wanted him, needed him right that second.

Nino, loving them, wanting them, needing them right back, found he had absolutely zero objections.

In the moments before he stopped being able to think sensibly, he decided that tomorrow, he’d finally play them his song.


End file.
